A Beautiful Lie

by RayRox360

Head Down. Mouth shut. Quiet. Survive. Peter knows the drill. Richard Parker has been carving it into him for years now. But things get complicated after Germany, after Tony Stark. With the Avengers scattered and the Accords in pieces, Tony's a wreck. Enter Spider-Kid, complete with bruises, excuses and a deep, dark secret. Still, who better to help a hero than another hero?

11. Rule 5 Part II

Chapter 11: Rule 5 Part ll

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5) Do Not Take Food Without Permission; Stealing Will Not Be Tolerated

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For a second, all the two could do was stare at each other, neither making the smallest of movements as their gazes stayed locked onto one another like two animals baiting for one to make the first move.

The only sound in the room was the faint whirring of Stark's bots "working" somewhere on the lab's upper levels, though the steady sound did little to distill the tension. Natasha was the first to snap out of the trance-like state as she blinked her shock away, taking a step forward so small, it barely even registered to her.

Nevertheless, it was enough to have the boy rearing back violently, a small yelp falling from his lips as he nearly launched off the chair, stumbling backwards as pages flew everywhere.

Natasha was used to having people react in such a way whenever she appeared, but considering the child's age, she was fully expecting the fear to quickly be replaced by starstruck wonder (which probably wasn't good considering her criminal status). After all, it wasn't many who didn't know who she was. And most kids were too young and awestruck to actually be smart enough be afraid of her like most adults.

Well, that didn't seem to be the case with this kid.

His eyes were wild and frantic as he stared at her like a mouse cowering from a prowling cat. His hands shook in front of him as his hair bounced around as his entire body seemed to quiver.

For a moment, the woman wondered if perhaps the child had heard something about her. She thought back to Tony. The only place he could have heard anything was from his supposed mentor, but as she stared at the shivering boy, it quickly became apparent that it was not the case. Tony would never tell a child such things to have him react like this.

She took a small step forward, extending her hand out hesitantly in peace. The gesture was lost on the boy as she approached. Instead, he stumbled backwards again, his back slamming against the back wall as he tripped over his own feet, pushing himself into the corner as a small, pained noise fell from his lips, his chest heaving violently as his eyes filled with a fear Natasha had only ever had the displeasure of seeing on missions.

Kill missions.

For a moment, the woman could only stare as the child literally cowered before her. A sharp pain filled her chest at the thought that the kid was actually this afraid of her. A pain that she'd gotten used to feeling, gotten used to numbing down. It was easier to convince herself that the people giving her those looks deserved to be afraid, deserved what was coming to them. But seeing it come from a child...

She licked her lips as she opened her mouth, only to pause as she took notice of something by her foot.

One of the papers from the table had fallen over to her. Stealing another glance up towards the teen, she reached down, purposely making her movements as slow and visible as possible. She could practically feel the boy's gaze on her.

Grabbing hold of the paper, she continued to kneel on the ground, drastically shifting her height so that her demeanor wasn't as ominous. The teen continued to stare down at her as she slowly held out the page. His eyes darted from the paper, to her hand, to her face.

She let a small smile grace her lips as she stared at the teen. The look wasn't as forced as some of the others she had to give. For a moment, it almost felt a little refreshing. She pushed down such a thought and focused back up, giving the page a slight shake. "It's okay." She said softly, her voice calm and quiet. "I'm not gonna hurt you."

The boy continued to stare at her, his eyes scanning her up and down as he seemed to size him up. She tried to ignore the small flare of unease that arose at such a fact. She'd been trained to do such a thing. Why did a child know how to do that?

For a moment, she wondered if the kid would simply refuse to say or do anything. God she hoped not. This would not be a very good situation for Stark to walk in on. Surprisingly, she doubted freaking out his intern would get her on his good side anytime soon.

Just as she was about to drop her hand, a soft voice had her looking back up.

"Y...y-you're...you're the...the Black Widow...r-right"

It was quiet. Barely above a whisper. She heard it, nonetheless.

She gave a small shrug as she slowly stood back up, the teen's eyes never leaving her. "Most of the time." She gave a smirk, hoping to alleviate some of the tension in the boy's stance.

His fingers twitched as his eyes darted back and forth between her and the door behind her. Somehow, despite his flighty behavior, she didn't get the sense that he was trying to bolt. In fact, it almost looked as if he was fearful of the door, or at least, whatever might come through it. "You...y-you were friends w-with...with Mr. Stark." He murmured. "Y...y-you were...you were in Germany."

She blinked down at him, taking in his words carefully. "Yes...yes I was." She spoke calmly. How much had Stark told him about all of that? She didn't think it was really something the man would talk about much, especially not with some random intern.

But perhaps he wasn't just another random intern...

She began to receive her answer as the teen's eyes began to shift. The film of panic and fear that had been layered over his eyes began to dissolve, leaving something else in its wake. His wide-eyes stare began to harden as his eyes darkened. His breathing picked up once again as his hands began to curl.

"You're...y-you're with Captain America." He growled, his eyes burning. "I...I know what you d-did. Y-you betrayed him. You...you hurt him. M-Mr. Stark..." He trailed off, his breath coming in sharp pants as he full on glared at her. "You left him! H-he was your friend and...and you just left him!" He snarled.

Natasha took a step back at the ferocity in the child's voice, her eyes widening at the sudden 180 in his demeanor. One second, he was a cowering, stuttering mess. And the next he was shouting at Black Widow. The Black Widow! She quickly realized why his gaze continued to flicker towards the door. He wasn't afraid of what might come through it. He was afraid for what might come through it. He was afraid of Tony coming into the room. He was afraid of her going for Stark, not himself.

"What...what are you doing h-here anyway? You're a criminal." He growled. "Did...did you come here to hurt him again? Well, d-don't..don't even think about trying it...a-alright? I...I won't let you." He clenched his fists tighter. "S-so why don't you just crawl back underneath whatever rock you're all hiding under?"

Natasha stared at the teen, his cheeks slightly flushed pink as he snapped at her. It it weren't for the fact that the boy was skinny as s twig and barely reached up past her shoulder, the threat probably would have irked her. Instead, she simply cocked a brow.

"Wow."

Definitely not just some random intern, especially if he was that passionate about something that didn't even happen to him. How much had Tony told him? How much had he not told him? Just what kind of intern was this kid?

The teen continued to glare up at her as his breathing slowly began to level out once more, his skin slowly draining of the color that had peeked through in his flickering snap of anger. As he stared at her, his blazing eyes began to calm as he blinked rapidly, his gaze lowering as his eyes flickered around the floor almost as if his brain was trying to catch up with what his mouth had been spewing.

And once it did, Natasha had to do a double take at the second 180 the teen displayed before her.

God, she was getting dizzy.

His mouth finally quivered back open as his hands began to shake, a spew of verbal barf falling past his lips. "Oh...oh, god. Oh, god, I'm...I-I'm so s-so sorry!" He panted. "I just...I didn't...I-I just yelled at the Black Widow." His eyes shone with panic as he staggered backwards once again.

"You're...y-you're gonna kill me, aren't you?" He didn't wait for her to reply as he turned away, running a shaking hand through his curls. "Yep, you're g-gonna kill me and they're n-never gonna find my body cause i mean, y-you're the fucking Black Widow and-"

"Language." She didn't know why. It just seemed right.

The teen continued on as if he hadn't even heard her. "-and...and I j-just yelled at you. Y-you probably decapitate people just for..for looking at you wrong and I-" He swallowed, or at least he tried to. At least he didn't vomit, like Natasha was expecting him to so she considered that a win. She wondered if the kid considered it one as well. She was willing to bet he did.

His face was getting paler, if such a thing was even possible. Beads of sweat were rolling down his temple despite the fact that the AC was constantly blasting in the room and it almost looked like he was swaying. What the hell was with this kid? And why did he look like he'd just had a date with death?

He pressed his face into his hands as he groaned. "I...I'm sorry. I don't...I-I don't know what...what I was t-thinking. I just...and...I couldn't stop and...I'm just sorry. I'm I-I...I'm sorry. I'm so, s-so s..." His voice tapered off and Natasha wondered if perhaps her small non-vomiting victory would have to be receded. But instead, she watched with morbid fascination as the teen's face froze, seemingly locking up in thought as his wide, glazed eyes stared at nothing, his mouth opening and closing slightly like a gaping fish. His shaking hands twitched as his nose scrunched slightly.

"No."

The word was soft. Barely anything. But Natasha could tell there was so much more behind it.

"No... no, you know what?" He face grew hard, a steely determination entering his eyes, which seemed to clear, if only a little. "I'm...I-I'm not sorry." A small, joyous smile crept onto his face for a fraction of a second at the words, almost as if he couldn't believe what he was saying, before he swallowed once more, turning to face the woman. Natasha could tell by the look in his eyes that he was still slightly unsure, an aura of unease and caution still wavering around him, but the look on his face told her that his words were serious.

"I'm not sorry." He repeated. "I'm...I'm not! And you wanna know why? Cause...cause you're a...bad person." He growled, pointing a shaking finger in her direction. "And...and you d-deserve to get yelled at! You're...you're mean!"

Alright, it was obvious he'd never done something like this before. He continued nonetheless.

"You're mean, and...and you're dangerous, and you don't d-deserve to be here." He narrowed his eyes, his feet shifting slightly in a nervousness that his face didn't portray. "And I'm...I'm not gonna let you hurt Mr. Stark again." He snarled, that particular sentence seeming to add a whole new wave of confidence over him.

"I know this is a horrible idea and I'm just digging my grave deeper with every word that spews out of my stupid mouth, but I'm talking...and...and I'm obviously...saying...words and...and I'm just gonna keep going cause it can't get any worse than this!"

Alright, Natasha was trying real hard to keep the smirk off her face now.

"I'm not gonna stop. I...really should. But I'm not. Not this time! Not when you might...I just won't! But..." He paused, a new look of unsureness marring his features as he bit his lip, rubbing the back of his neck. "Could you...maybe just do me a favor, mean lady?"

God, she was so telling Steve about this. Stark too. He'd probably give the damn kid a raise.

"Can, can you like...get it over with quickly? M-maybe skip out on the torture session? He murmured, eyeing the slight bulge on her hip where her gun was concealed warily. "Cause like...that...doesn't really sound all that appealing."

Natasha stared down at the kid as he finished, his gaze locking onto his shoes as he rubbed the tip against the cold tile floor, a soft squeaking reaching their ears. He fiddled with his hands as he tried to put on a brave face, which ended up looking like a sad puppy staring up at a bear. After a moment, the woman decided to end the teen's suffering, just not in the way he'd been expecting.

"Calm down, kid. I'm not gonna kill you." She muttered as she folded her arms over her chest.

The teen blinked up at her, wide eyes flickering across her face as he wrung his hands like a wet towel. "Oh...o-okay...that's g-good...that's good."

"Mmm..." The woman hummed. "And I'm not gonna hurt Tony either." She added with a roll of her eyes.

He glanced down at his feet as he crossed his arms over his chest, eyes narrowed slightly. "I...I hope you'll forgive me i-if I'm...not all that keen on believing you." He murmured, casting his eyes up once again. Natasha resisted the urge to blow out a sigh of annoyance. She was really starting to get tired of explaining herself.

She missed the days where whenever someone annoyed her she could just kill them. Short and simple. End of story. A little messy.

"Look," She sighed. "I know things turned out pretty bad. But he's my friend. That hasn't changed, despite what he might think." She stared hard at the boy. "I just want to try and make things right with him."

The boy continued to twist his foot on the ground as his arms stayed folded. He bit his lip before stealing another glance up. "You...y-you mean that?" He asked softly, his voice quiet and curious.

"Every word."

He seemed to think for another moment longer before he uncrossed his arms, placing his hands behind his back as he continued to twist the tip of his shoe into the floor. "A-alright...then...then I am sorry for yelling at you, miss." He murmured, cheeks flushing with whatever color the teen's face did hold. In fact, now that she was getting another good look, he almost had a resemblance of someone who was being malnourished. That would explain the pale skin, the apparent weakness and even the abnormally small body.

Of course, she was probably just overreacting. After all, Tony had told her this was Richard Parker's son, a man who was known for his money and his good name. So the idea of him having a son who was malnourished and underfed? It was practically ridiculous.

She stole another glance at the kid, watching as he swayed slightly before catching himself, the movement barely even noticeable has she not been staring straight at him.

She narrowed her eyes. Then again...I'm quite used to having ridiculous take a whole new meaning around me. She thought to herself.

"T-That was rude of me." The boy continued, refusing to meet her gaze all of a sudden. "Granted, you k-kind of deserved it." He stole a frantic stare up before letting out a nervous cough behind his hand. "S...still sorry." He whispered.

Natasha couldn't keep the humored smirk off of her face any longer. "It's alright, kid. I did kinda deserve it." She chuckled before taking a step closer, extending out her hand. "I'm Natasha."

She expected the gesture to be returned quickly, but the teen simply stared at the outstretched hand with a nervous eye as he bit his lip and curled his arms around himself, Natasha quickly making a note of said action. Alright...no touching. Got it. She muttered to herself.

"P-Peter..." He responded after a second.

"Parker. Yeah, Tony told me about you."

Peter quickly seemed to take interest, tilting his head slightly. "R-really?" He asked, the slight lift to his voice saying he hadn't expected such a thing. "W-what'd...what'd he say?"

"Said you were a smart little thing." She raised a brow. "Though I didn't know he literally meant 'little'. How old are you anyway?" She asked.

Peter glanced back towards the table where he'd first been working before turning back to her. "Fourteen." He answered, watching her face twitch in what he could only assume to be her version of surprise. "Um...is that...all he told you about me?" He asked, trying not to display the nervousness he was feeling inside on his face.

Natasha was quick to pick up on it anyway. "Yeah...why? Is there something else?" She asked, more teasing than anything else, though it was a valid question.

However, Peter didn't seemed inclined to share as he said nothing, turning away as he carefully walked past the woman and made his way over towards the table from before. He tried not to tense up his muscles at the fact that he no longer had the dangerous woman in his line of sight as he stooped down onto his knees to pick up the scattered papers.

He also tried to ignore the fact that his hand was shaking as he reached for the papers. Though, to be honest, he couldn't be too sure that it was all just because of his nerves. The small bout of dizziness that rocked him as he reached for a particularly far page had his suspicions all but confirmed.

He reached for another page, only for someone else to grab it first. He stole a small glance up and gazed at Natasha as she held out the page to him. A small flash of deja vu washed over him before he pushed it down, tentatively taking the page from her hand as he stood up once more.

Either Natasha didn't see the way his body staggered as he rose back up, or she chose to not say anything about it. He was willing to bet on the latter. Shakily taking a seat on the stool by the table once again, the teen placed the pages down and caught a glimpse of himself in the reflection of the metal table.

He tried not to wince at the sight. His skin was nearly the same shade as the papers he'd just picked up and his eyes were dark and dull, matching the bags underneath them. His hair was a bit messy as large curls drooped down against his forehead, though they didn't do much in hiding the large bruise that still took up nearly half his face. It was hard not to notice the fact that the bruise hadn't started to fade yet, which was strange considering with his healing it might have at least shrunken down. But instead, it was the same dark purple as before.

Peter let out a small sigh as he turned away from the image. If there were any silver linings in that moment, it was that his head was at least opting to stay attached to his body, which was a welcomed departure from the pain of that morning. The migraine pills that Michelle had given him were strong, even for him and his stupid-fast metabolism. So while they weren't as effective as they would have been for a normal person, they were at least better than the run-of-the-mill pain killers that did all but nothing for him.

The girl had given him more at lunch, after nearly shoving a granola bar into his hand. His stomach had churned painfully at the thought of eating it, but one look from MJ had him forcing it down. It was better than the sandwich she'd wanted him to eat at first. The granola bar was their version of a compromise.

Now that he thought about it, Michelle and her overbearing, forceful attitude were probably the only reason the boy hadn't collapsed sometime earlier in the day. Of course, now that a couple more hours had passed, Peter was beginning to feel the effects of his hunger once again.

He glanced up and noticed that Natasha was now sitting across from him, staring intently. He felt a chill run down his spine at her gaze. It wasn't harsh, just piercing. Observant.

He didn't like that.

She seemed to notice his discomfort as she leaned back in her chair, folding her arms over her chest. "So how'd a kid like you cross paths with someone like Tony Stark?"

Peter blinked at her before lowering his gaze once more, grabbing his pencil as he gently poked the tip with his finger. "Mr. Stark w-was really interested in...in my application. S-said I looked promising. He...uh...he t-took an interest in me, I guess. I...I don't ask too many questions. I'm l-lucky enough to just be here. I...I don't wanna ruin it by...you know...being myself."

He didn't meet her gaze again as he blatantly ducked his head, eyes drilling into the paper as the pencil began to scribble notes along the lines. Natasha watched him, saying nothing as she reran the words he'd spoken over in her head. One of the main things she'd taken to notice when he spoke was his stutter. There were times where it seemed like an involuntary thing, something he couldn't control, and other times where it seemed more stress related.

She tilted her head quizzically. She'd have to study him more to find out.

She gazed down at the plans that were scattered around him, her eyes reading over the title once again. "Arc reactor, huh?" She echoed, Peter stealing a small glance up. "Guess you are pretty smart."

She expected him to blush or thank her. Instead he gave a small shrug of his shoulders, eyes downcast as he continued to write, propping one cheek up with his fist. "Mr. Stark thinks so I guess. I...I don't know." He murmured, his voice quiet.

She narrowed her eyes, leaning closer. "I'd assume so, kid. He doesn't let just anybody mess around with his work. And this is basically his pride and joy next to his oh so precious suits." She said with a roll of her eyes. Peter gave a small smile at that, Natasha noting it as the first time he'd seemed happy, in a sense. She continued. "Give yourself a little credit. I'd say he's taken a liking to you."

Peter gazed at her for a moment longer before turning back down, remaining silent. Though the woman was able to pick up on the smallest trace of another grin.

They said nothing for a while, the silence enveloping the pair in a comfortable embrace as Natasha simply watched Peter write, sometimes taking small glances around the lab. Finally, after a few minutes of Peter stealing small stares up (which Natasha noted were painfully obvious), he finally decided to speak.

"Umm...Miss Romanoff, M'am?" He murmured.

"Natasha."

"Right." He rubbed at the back of his neck. "Um...I d-don't mean to be rude or anything and y-you definitely don't have to answer if you don't want to but...but...um...what a-are you doing here? I don't want to offend you but y-you're kinda...well not kinda...a...um...wanted criminal." He finished with a wince as he ducked his head slightly, almost as if he expected her to reach over and slug him in the face.

She stared at him for a moment, face cool as she glanced towards the door. "I just wanted to see a friend."

"I thought Captain America was your friend."

She blinked in mild surprise at the new tone of voice, the teen almost seeming annoyed as he fiddled with his pencil once more. She gave a small smirk as she leaned forward, propping an arm up on her knee.

"Sensing you don't head up the Captain America fan club at school, huh?"

He didn't smile. "All he did was run off and cower after trying to kill my idol of ten years." He scoffed and glared down at the floor. "Why wouldn't I adore him?"

Natasha let out a sigh as she turned away. "Look, kid. Things were-"

"Complicated. Yeah that's what everyone keeps telling me." He muttered, eyes narrowed as he glared at the papers, clenching the pencil tighter. "I know what that means. Just means 'keep your nose out of our shit, kid. It doesn't concern you'. I know how to read between the lines." He stared back up at her. "That's where you find all the best secrets."

The woman blinked. The stuttered was gone. "Or the worst ones." She finished, the teen glancing at her before giving a small dejected shrug.

She ran her tongue along the inside of her cheek in thought before leaning back once more. So...what kind of secret is that shiner on your face, if it's a secret at all."

Peter stared at her for a second, his eyes shining with something she couldn't trace before it was gone. "Not much of a secret that I'm...I'm probably the clumsiest person on the p-planet. I just had a l-little accident in the kitchen a few days ago. It'll...it'll be gone in a couple days, tops."

It was back. Hmm...strange.

He also hadn't mentioned why he looked two shades away from being legally classified as a walking cadaver. However, taking into consideration the uncomfortable aura that was already surrounding the teen, she decided that perhaps it wouldn't be the best idea to stress him out even more.

The last thing she needed was Stark walking in on her with an unconscious teenager.

Instead, the woman decided to move the conversation elsewhere. She ran her fingers along the edges of one of the textbooks that had been left on the table. Peter watched her out of the corner of his eye, but didn't say anything.

"Spanish homework, huh?" She murmured absentmindedly, though Peter still picked up on it. "Jesus, you really are still just a baby."

The teen's cheeks instantly flushed as he scrunched his nose and glared at her. Whatever effect he wanted it to have, Natasha was willing to say that the opposite was true. He literally looked like a pouting toddler. "I'm not a baby." He muttered.

She couldn't help but smirk. "Cranky from all the homework they're giving you? I'd assume so. It must take away from your nap time." She chuckled. Peter grunted in annoyance, though the woman could detect the hint of a smile as he rolled his eyes.

"Not really. Spanish i-is kinda the least of my worries. It only took me like ten minutes to finish."

Natasha quirked a brow. "Too boring for a baby genius like yourself, huh?"

Peter didn't seem to react too much to the nickname as he let out a tired sigh, running his fingers against his eyes. "It's just...it's so easy. And I know this is a language that c-comes up a lot more often in life than...I don't know...than Latin or something, but at least that would be a challenge. This is..." He gestured towards the textbook. "-painfully easy." He sighed.

"Besides, it was either this or ASL but I'm almost ninety percent sure the ASL teacher...kinda...hates my guts." He muttered.

"Why?"

"Does she even need a reason?" He rolled his eyes. "I think it's cause I a-accidently dropped my math textbook on her toe one time in the hallway." He grimaced. "I didn't n-need to know sign language to tell what she was saying to me after that." He blushed slightly and gave a small shudder.

Natasha chuckled as the teen threw her a small, nervous grin. She watched as he turned back towards the plans for the arc reactor, pencil moving quickly as he jotted down whatever nerd stuff he and Tony did in here.

As she stared, she couldn't help but finally come to realize what Tony had meant all those days ago. "You really are weird, kid." She murmured absentmindedly.

Peter didn't even look up. "I'm not even gonna ask whether it's a good weird or a bad weird. N-nobody can ever seem to give me a straight answer so I'm just gonna assume it's somewhere in the middle."

Her words were true. The kid was strange. At first glance, he seems like your average, nerdy teenager. Pale, skinny, lanky, fidgety. But even there, he wasn't normal. It almost seemed as though he was too nervous. Like he was expecting something bad to already happen. He stuttered constantly, he didn't make much eye contact and he didn't seem to like to be touched. All three factors weren't good signs in themselves. But put all three together and you have reason to be concerned.

But what shocked her even more was how fast all of that could change. One second he was a stumbling, blubbering mess. And the next he looked like he was two second away from calling her a bitch. He'd been angry, mad, determined, confident. Nothing like the teenager she'd seen at first.

And it all seemed to stem from one thing.

Tony.

The second the teen realized who she was, what she could do, what she had done, he'd dropped all nerves and insecurities. It was so quick that she'd almost gotten a sense of whiplash from it. But the boy had held fast, strong-willed and sharp tongued.

And it was all to defend Stark. Not himself. Whenever it turned on himself, he became that same stuttering, nervous wreck of a kid he looked like. But the second Tony came into play, it was like he was an entirely different person altogether.

She couldn't say it didn't fascinate her.

She stared at the teen.

This definitely deserved further study.

"Well...Spanish might not give you much of a challenge, but most people find Russian to be a bit more complicated."

Peter raised a brow. "Huh?"

"Ты очень странный ребенок, но я признаю, что ты меня интригуешь." (You are a very odd child, but I'll admit you intrigue me).

The teen's eyes quickly widened as he leaned closer. "Whoa...you speak Russian?" He gaped before shaking his head. "Pshh...what am I saying? Of course y-you speak Russian. You can probably s-speak whatever language you want."

She smirked. "Well I don't know about that, but my Russian is pretty good if I do say so myself. Or course, I've never tried teaching it before." She murmured with a mischievous glint in her eye, throwing the teen a small wink.

Peter gaped at her, blinking rapidly. "You'd...you w-wanna teach me Russian?"

The woman shrugged. "Why not?"

The teen's eyes lit up for a moment as he opened his mouth only to pause as he quickly reigned himself back in, lowering his gaze as he tapped his pencil against the paper. "I..I don't...you...y-you don't have to do that." He murmured quietly.

Natasha gave him a hard stare at the sudden shift in demeanor before folding her arms over her chest. "Trust me, kid. I don't do anything I don't wanna do. This, on the other hand, might be fun." She added with a shrug. "Besides, I'll never pass up the opportunity to make someone look like a fool. Usually, it's in the field, but I'll take watching you trip over your own tongue, too."

Peter perked up a little at that, giving a small sigh as he threw the woman an exasperated look. "Great...I already do that in my own language. Now I'll get to sound like an idiot in two languages."

Natasha smirked as Peter smiled back. "That's the plan, kid."

---

Wednesday - March 30, 2016

Stark Tower - Private Labs 01

04:48 p.m.

Tony couldn't help but glance over towards his side as he walked, staring out the large windows that made up most of the wall in the long hallway. He cocked a brow and glanced down at the street below as he did a few calculations in his head.

"A fall from this height has to be enough to kill me, right?" He muttered to himself before craning his neck even further, a sigh spilling from his lips. "Nah...I'm not lucky enough for that." He growled before continuing to walk down the hallway.

Suicidal thoughts such as those were usually what followed up a little chat with Ross. Of course, the suicide came after he murdered Ross.

Kill Ross. Suicide Later. Yep, that was the plan.

The man sighed once more and ran a hand down his face. He'd just had to endure the idiotic man blabber on for the last half hour and now he wanted nothing more than to drown himself in all the alcohol they had in the goddamn building. No, scratch that. In all of New York City.

That had to be enough to kill him.

I swear, I think he's trying to drive me insane. He muttered to himself as he began to descend the few steps that led down to his lab. Of course, Ross had been up his ass about the Falcon sighting in the city, asking him why he wasn't doing anything about the situation. Tony's answer had been short and simple. "Cause I don't care."

And he didn't. He couldn't care less about what those idiots were up to. Just as long as they stayed as far away from him as possible. They could have been blowing up Nigeria or some other stupid shit like that. They liked to cause mass destruction wherever they went, right? Yep, sounded perfect for them. A nice little pastime.

He groaned as he felt the beginnings of a migraine working their way up his brain as he walked closer to the lab doors. He'd left Peter inside with strict instructions to finish up his homework and then to move on to working on schematics for the arc reactor. The teen had only given a brief complaint about how ridiculous his homework was, to which Tony responded with "everything we do in this lab is ridiculous. But at least that helps you boost the askew and rigged American Educational System so do it."

He knew the teen would. There were times when Peter reminded the billionaire of an overexcited police puppy. Ready to follow orders and nothing else. Almost like he'd been programmed that way. It was a bit scary sometimes. Hell, if Tony told him to jump off the building, he was frighteningly positive the kid would only give mild hesitation to the action before strapping on a pair of skydiving goggles.

Tony perhaps wasn't as alert and attentive as he could have been in that moment, his exhaustion probably a tangible thing in his face alone. However, as he moved closer towards the lab door, he couldn't help the small twinge in his chest that longed to be in there with Peter, if only to try and soak up some of that overexcited puppy energy.

God knew he needed a lot of that nowadays.

As he thought back to the teen, Tony couldn't help but think back to how...off the boy seemed today. Oh, he tried to hide it, of course. But something strange about the teen that Tony had begun to pick up on was that he was a great liar. Like...incredible.

Unless, of course, he was trying to pull one over on Tony. Then it was like he'd literally been caught with his hand in the cookie jar; stutter, shifty eyes, sweaty hands, the whole shebang. The billionaire had no explanation for it. He would ask Peter if he wasn't pretty positive it would only make the boy panic.

It seemed a lot of things did that whenever he was like this. 'This' being pale, jumpy and downright miserable-looking. His skin was pale and his eyes were dull and the massive bruise on his face had had Tony's hand gripping his screwdriver a little tighter than necessary. Of course, before he'd had the chance to ask the teen about it, he'd been dragged away by a phone call from Secretary Douchebag.

He was almost afraid to hear the kid's answer, though.

However, as he moved closer towards the door, he began to pick up on the sound of voices. One of them he instantly recognized as Peter's, the teen's high-pitched, quiet tone being something he could probably pick out of a busy crowd. The other was...was...

Fucking shit-fuck

Quickly rounding the corner, his hand lingered on the frame of the door as he bolted into the room, eyes widening at the sight.

Peter was sitting where he'd last left him, his elbows propped up on the table as he stared down at a piece of paper in front of him. However, it was not the piece of paper he'd started with half an hour ago. And he certainly wasn't alone anymore.

No, instead the page seemed to have a bunch of different symbols on it, other letters written in smaller print underneath those. Natasha sat next to him, her finger pointing towards one of the symbols as she glanced at the teen. They obviously hadn't noticed him yet, for they were still speaking...Russian?

What in the actual shit?

For a brief moment, the billionaire should have been able to recognize the peaceful aura in the air of the lab. He should have noticed the fact that Peter didn't look worried or stressed at having the woman near him. He should have paused to wonder.

But all he could see was The Black Widow with Peter Parker. His intern. And all he could recognize was the sickening twist in his gut - like a knife being twisted along his ribs - at the sight of the assassin sitting within even ten feet of the teen.

Nope. This was not happening.

"Uhh...I hope I'm not interrupting anything." He called pointedly as he folded his arms over his chest, pushing down the strange urge to call his armor. This hadn't happened a few days ago. What was this? Why was this happening now?

Both parties looked up at the same time, the atmosphere i the room instantly darkening. Well, at least for Tony and Natasha. Peter, however, seemed blissfully unaware as he gave the man a large grin. Though the innocent look as enough to answer the man's previous questions.

At least Natasha had the decency to look uneasy.

"Mr. Stark!" The teen called happily. "Hey, I met your friend. She's super cool, you know. She's teaching me Russian and it's really hard but she says I'm doing good so I think it's going okay!" He beamed, not noticing Natasha's strange look. Or the fact that Tony was staring at him like he'd just grown another head. "Oh and also, how come you didn't tell me you spoke Italian? That's super cool, too." He rambled, tilting his head.

Natasha switched her gaze from the bubbling teen to the frothing man across the room. Tony gave a small shake of his head. "Yeah...yeah, that's great kid. Um...here's a better question, though. Uh...what the hell do you think you're doing with her?" He asked, his voice hiding none of his anger as he glared at the spy.

She didn't look too phased. That made him angrier.

On Peter, however, his shift was instantaneous. Any and all color that had been coming back to his face quickly drained away as he gave the man a wide-eyed stare, flickering it between him and the woman beside him as he slowly stood up. "I...um...I just...d-did..." His stutter was back. With a vengeance. "Did you n-not know...s-she was...here?" The words were small.

Tony gave him a well-duh look.

Peter quickly staggered away from Natasha as Tony moved closer. "Oh, god...oh, god...I...I-I...I'm so...so sorry, Mr. Stark. I...I thought that...t-that you...you knew she was here or that...t-that you at least k-knew I w...was talking to...to her and I..." His hands were shaking now. Not a good sign.

"I didn't mean to...i just...I-I...wasn't...I wasn't trying to...to side with...and I...I-I..." He was starting to pant. That was worse.

The second Peter started to struggle in getting the next word out, Tony stepped forward, trying to ignore how Peter flinched back at his sudden movement. "Whoa, whoa." He called loudly. "You need to start breathing right now, kid. It's not your ass I'm gonna kick out of the building, anyway." He muttered, glancing at Natasha, who was rising to her feet, inquisitive eyes locking onto Peter's quivering form.

He didn't like that at all.

"Come here, would you?" He muttered, grasping Peter's forearm as he yanked the kid forward, a small yelp of surprise falling from the teen's lips as Tony dragged him to stand behind him, blocking the boy from Natasha's view.

The assassin couldn't help but roll her eyes at the display. "Oh, would you relax, Stark? I didn't touch your little intern." She muttered, folding her arms. The man glared back at her. "You. You stay out of this, alright? I'll get with you in a second right after I make sure you didn't inject this idiot with whatever shit you have stored up your sleeve. Hey!" He called to Peter, snapping his fingers in front of his face. The teen flinched back, more out of shock than anything else. "Can you taste color yet?"

"What?"

"Don't deflect. Answer the question."

Natasha groaned as she stepped closer. "Tony, come on. You're overreacting. I didn't hurt him. We were just talking." She muttered with a glare.

Tony pointed a finger at her as he opened his mouth to spit something else out, only to pause as Peter latched a small hand onto the sleeve of his jacket. He glanced down, throwing the teen a quizzical look. "She's telling the t-truth, Mr. Stark." He stammered out, unsure of whether or not he was allowed to speak at the moment. "She didn't do anything. S-she's really nice."

That had Tony freezing. He glanced at Natasha before turning back to the kid. "Nice? What...I...Nice? Geez, you really gave him the strong stuff didn't you?" He muttered over his shoulder as he grabbed the teen's chin, turning his head away to inspect his neck. "Alright, where did she inject you?" He growled, only for Peter to push his hand away, unable to keep the small giggle from leaving his mouth. "I'm being serious, Mr. Stark." He called, glancing back at the woman with a small smile.

"She asked me about my homework, the internship and I mean it about the Russian. She really is teaching me." He stared up at the man. "It's pretty cool."

Tony stared down at him, eyes hard as he searched the teen's face. After a second, he turned around to glance at Natasha, who -what the hell- was actually smirking at him? That little-

"Kid, do me a favor and head up to the second level. I need you to grab something for me."

Peter blinked up at him for a moment. "Um...okay? What do you need me to get?"

Tony pushed him towards the stairs. "I don't know. Something. Anything. Just make sure it takes you a long time to find." He muttered as Peter raised a brow, but said nothing.

The billionaire turned back to Natasha as Peter began to climb up the stairs. Tony noticed out of the corner of his eye as Peter stumbled on the stairs, a small sigh falling from the older man's mouth as he rubbed his fingers into his eyes. "This kid..." He muttered, Natasha giving a small chuckle. "He is...uh...something. I'll give him that."

"Yeah, about that," Tony muttered stepping closer. "Didn't I specifically tell you to stay the hell away from him?" He growled, narrowing his eyes. Natasha's face continued to hold an aura of humor as she smirked. "No. you told me to stay away from Spider-Man. You said nothing about your baby intern."

Tony was about to retort that it was the same thing before he realized what it entailed, quickly stopping himself as he gave her a disgruntled look, huffing in annoyance as he rolled his eyes. "Well I'd assume you'd be courteous enough to include anybody who's in the middle of this little skirmish of ours." He scoffed, refusing to show the relief he felt inside at the fact that Peter was now far away from her.

Natasha blew out a small breath from the corners of her mouth as she glanced up at the elevated floor of the second level, eyes narrowing in though for a moment before she turned back to Tony, who was straightening out the papers on the desk, glancing at the page with the Russian alphabet hastily scribbled on it, rolling his eyes slightly.

"What's wrong with him, Tony?"

The billionaire sharply turned to look at her, eyes searching her face for a moment before his lip curled and his eyes filled with something the woman couldn't seem to recognize. It was anger, sure. But there was something deeper there.

"What do you...what the hell do you mean? There's nothing wrong with him." He nearly spat the words as he stalked closer.

Natasha raised up her hands in a sign of submission. "You know I didn't mean it like that, Tony." She spoke calmly, hoping to appease the fuming man. "But he...the way he acts...that's not normal." She stressed.

"What do you mean?" Tony muttered in annoyance, though Natasha could tell by the look in his eyes that he already knew what she meant.

"I mean, you don't become like that, reclusive, jumpy, fidgety...scared...unless something caused it." She explained. "And not many things that I can think of in a teenager's life should be able to do something like that." She stepped closer, Tony lifting his gaze to meet hers. "What happened?"

The billionaire said nothing for a moment before his eyes hardened and his jaw tensed. "I don't have to tell you shit." He all but growled at her.

The woman let out a small sigh as she leaned back, turning away as she ran a hand through her hair. She stared down at the floor as she leaned up against the metal table, arms crossing over her chest. "Well whatever it was, he didn't deserve it."

Tony glanced up in surprise.

The woman stared back at him, her gaze never wavering. "He's a good kid. A bit nervous at times, but..." She gave a small smile, a genuine smile. "He's...he's good." She gave a small smirk. "He seems to have taken a liking to you too. Nearly bit my head off the second he assumed I was here to hurt you."

Tony's eyes widened slightly. "What?"

The woman nodded. "Mm-hmm. In fact, I think his exact words were 'I'm a mean lady'."

His eyes seemed to double in size at that. "No he did not." He breathed, unable to keep the smirk off his face. "FRIDAY?" He called, glancing up at the ceiling.

"I can confirm that Ms. Romanoff's words are correct. In fact, I even took the liberty of recording the entire affair."

Natasha cocked a brow as she glared up at the ceiling. "Why?"

"No particular reason."

The woman scoffed. "Yeah, right." She muttered, almost sure it was because she'd been getting her ass handed to her by a fourteen-year-old punk. Yep, it was official. FRIDAY definitely hated her guts at the moment. Great, another bridge she'd have to rebuild.

Tony watched the assassin glare at his AI for a moment longer before turning away with a deep sigh. He knew Natasha was one of the last people he really wanted to talk to, especially about stuff like this. But he couldn't stop a small part of his mind from wanting to disclose all he knew to her. Lord knew the assassin had to have some good advise on what to do.

Nevertheless, confessing all of it would mean trusting her, at least on some level . Trusting her with Peter.

He couldn't do that. Not...not with him. Not with the kid. He couldn't risk her hurting him.

He stared down at the ground, his gaze cold. "It's not what happened." He said slowly, choosing his words carefully. "It's what's happening."

Natasha stared at him, drinking in his words carefully. "Does this have anything to do with why it looks like someone smashed a grapefruit in his face?" She muttered, Tony merely sparing her a small glance before turning away again. He said nothing.

His silence was answer enough.

She gave a small nod of her head, realizing that was all the information she was gonna get. She walked over, placing a hand on Tony's shoulder. The man didn't look up, but he didn't pull away either. She considered it a small win. "I'm sticking around, Tony. Whether you want me to or not. Cause I don't care what's happening with the others, with Ross, with...hell, with all of this." She gave his shoulder a small squeeze. "You can't stop me from caring about you."

The man said nothing for a moment before giving a small huff of amusement, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. "Wanna bet?"

She gave his arm a small pat as she moved away, walking towards the lab exit. As she neared the door, she placed one hand on the frame and paused. It was obvious in her stiff posture that she was hesitating with something, which was shocking enough. She never hesitated. Nevertheless, she stilled for a moment longer before glancing over her shoulder.

"Ask him whether or not he's eaten anything today."

The billionaire turned to her, eyebrow raised. "What? What does that-"

"Just do it, Tony." The woman said, her voice hard. Tony fully turned around at that. Where was this coming from? She sighed and turned away for a second. "I...I just have...a feeling, is all." She murmured. "Maybe it's nothing. Just...it can't hurt to check."

With that, she walked through the door, disappearing from sight. Tony stared after her for a moment before his gaze returned to the floor, his brow furrowed in thought. He stayed like that for a while before he heard footsteps approaching. He lifted his head, watching as Peter hesitantly walked down the stairs, a white knuckle grip on the railing. In his other hand, there was a small, rusted wrench.

The teen reached the bottom step with a loud exhale, eyes shutting in exhaustion. "Okay..." he panted. "I g-got...something? I got something." He murmured, holding up the little wrench for the older man to see.

Tony plucked it out of the teen's hands, inspecting it for a second. "Oh, I still have this thing? I meant to throw it out like two weeks ago. It's super old." He muttered.

Peter stared at him for a moment before dropping his head, his chin nearly hitting his chest. "Great. That's...t-that's great..." He said, Tony noting how out of breath the boy sounded. He quirked a brow at that. What, had he run around the lab or something?

"You good, kid?" He asked, walking closer.

Peter waved him off, Tony halting in his stride. "Yeah...yeah, I'm good. Just..." He sucked in another shaky breath. "God, that was a l-lot of walking, y-you know...?" He tried to give a small smile, but it ended up resembling more of a grimace.

Tony noted that his face had grown another shade paler, if such a thing were even possible. Quickly trying to convince himself that it was merely a trick of the light, Tony glanced behind him at the doorway. "Kid, could you do me a favor and maybe not tell your dad that I let you fraternize with a wanted war criminal?"

Peter huffed. "Yeah, don't worry. He won't be hearing about this anytime soon."

"Excellent."

The teen took a step away from the stairs, but quickly stumbled. Tony moved forward, only to watch as Peter grasped onto the railing as tightly as possible, face scrunching up in pain for a second before he quickly righted himself.

"Kid..." The man said warily. "I really think you should sit down for a second." He slowly inched closer, hands creeping up as he watched the teen intently. Peter gave a small shake of his head as he opened his mouth, only for him to suck in another breath. "I'm...I-I'm fine, Mr. Stark. R-really." He murmured as he tried once again to step forward.

This time, he couldn't catch himself as his knees buckled all of a sudden, a small yelp falling from his lips as he toppled forward. "Hey!" Tony shouted, quickly shooting forward right as the teen collapsed against his chest. Strong arms wrapped around his too-tiny waist as the billionaire tried to steady him.

Peter grunted as he scrunched his eyes tightly. "D-damn it." He muttered, the words muffled against Tony's jacket. A..alright. So...so I'm a little s-south of fine, but we're just g-gonna pretend that this d-didn't happen." He sighed, mostly to himself than to anyone else. He lifted his gaze and Tony was sure that if his face had any color to it whatsoever, he would be blushing. "S-sorry." He murmured, quickly looking away.

"God, kid." Tony muttered as he slowly began to lower the boy to the floor. Peter dropped to his knees, panting as if the small movement had zapped away all of his remaining strength as he flipped himself over so that he was sitting on his bottom, one of his arms propped straight against the ground while the other lay limp in his lap. His head was tilted back as he blinked rapidly.

Tony stared at him for a moment, mouth slightly parted in shock. The boy barely even seemed phased by the fact that he'd nearly face-planted on his frikkin floor! Quickly shaking his head, the man cautiously lowered himself down, crouching in front of the teen as he rested one arm on his knee. "What the hell was that, Peter?" He asked, his voice tense.

The kid stole a quick glance his way before turning away. "Nothing. N-nothing, I just got a little dizzy, is all. I...I might not have...gotten much sleep last night." He tried to chuckle, but the noise died in his throat as he caught sight of the older man's expression.

Tony was staring straight at him, not even trying to hide such a fact. His eyes were hard as he flickered around the teen's figure, seeming to drink in every detail before he turned away with an aggravated sigh. "God I hate it when she's right." He muttered to himself before turning back to Peter. "Have you eaten today?" He asked, though he was certain of the answer already.

Peter stared back at him, eyes wide as his mouth parted slightly, only for no words to come out. Tony huffed as he narrowed his eyes. "Yesterday?"

"I...umm..."

"The day before?" He sounded angry. Peter's fingers twitched.

"I think...I h-had an...apple?"

Tony shook his head. "Jesus fucking Christ, kid." He growled. "Are you insane? I...I think you're starting to go insane. Cause only someone who's mentally absent could do something so monumentally stupid." He snapped.

Peter said nothing. Tony took it as an invitation to continue.

"Going three days without a proper meal is enough to worry even a normal human. But you? With your freaky metabolism? It's downright deadly." He leaned closer. "Were you just gonna try and ignore all of this?" He asked, eyes narrowed. "Wait until you keeled over and couldn't get back up again? Cause judging from the look of you, it would have only taken a few more hours, at least." he growled.

Peter flinched back as he turned his head away, his lip quivering as he opened his mouth. No words came out. The teen squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to force the words to come out, but his tongue seemed to be tripping over itself.

Tony's hardened eyes remained on the teen's form, pausing as they stopped on the dark bruise, which looked even worse now that the teen's skin held almost no color. Instantly, the fire in his eyes died down as a sickening jolt of realization shot through his stomach, making bile rise up on his throat.

He swallowed and looked away, eyes lifting towards the ceiling for a minute before he gazed back down at the teen. "How'd you hurt your eye?" He asked, his tone dark and foreboding.

Peter glanced back up at him, eyes wary. He'd received that question more times than he could count that day. And with each question, he always had the same answer. It was like reflex. The same with all of his lies. Always at the tip of his tongue. Spoken cleanly and fluently. Perfectly crafted. Nobody could ever see through it.

So...why couldn't he speak?

He stared at the man as he tried to find the words, his fingers twitching once more. "I...I-I...was...w-was..." He cleared his throat, his hands shaking. "I was m-making...dinner-"

"The dinner you didn't eat." Tony muttered as he raised a brow.

"umm...and...I...I-I slipped on s-some water. H-it my head against t-the...the side of the...counter."

God, not even a four-year-old would have believed that.

Peter ducked his head as he waited for the older an to call him out on it, to chew him up and grind him into nothing for the lie.

The billionaire said nothing as he continued to stare at the boy, taking in yet another example of the kid's inability to lie to him. He honestly didn't know what he'd been expecting. It wasn't as if the teen was actually going to tell him what had really happened, not if it was what Tony assumed it was. He'd be lying if he said hearing the boy lie to him didn't make him just a little frustrated, but the small twinge in the back of his mind continued to remind him that this was what he'd have to expect from him.

At least until he started to earn his trust.

"Okay."

Peter snapped his eyes open and whipped his head up, which was a mistake as a wave of dizziness smashed into him. Tony seemed to notice this as he placed a steadying hand on his shoulder. "If you say so, kid." The man continued, though it almost looked as if the words pained him.

Peter said nothing as he lowered his gaze. Tony stared down at him, biting his cheek in thought as he let out a small groan. This just wasn't his day, was it. He glanced over towards the door. First things first, he had to get some food into the baby idiot at his feet. The first thing that popped into his mind was the food court downstairs, but he quickly pushed the thought out of his head.

Considering how loopy and out of it the teen was starting to get, he knew the last thing they needed was to bring him somewhere loud and noisy with tons of different people and mingling smells. Even he feared getting some sense of sensory overload in that god forsaken place, let alone a kid with literal super senses.

So, without the cafeteria, that only left one option. Tony couldn't help but grimace at the thought, but one last glance at the sad-looking mess of a teen at his feet was enough to have him suck it up. Besides, it wasn't like anybody would be up there anyway.

"Alright, kid. Let's go do something smart for once and get some food in you."

Peter blinked up at him before biting his lip. "You don't h-"

"Kid, if you say 'I don't have to' one more time, I'm literally going to force-feed you baby food." He muttered, leaning closer. "And I'll make the airplane noises."

Peter's eyes widened. "You wouldn't."

The man grinned. "I'll even have FRIDAY record it."

The teen stared at him, mouth agape for a moment before he finally relented with a sigh. "Can you stand?" The billionaire asked as he rose up to his feet. Peter blinked in thought before he tried to push himself up, only to wince as a horde of black dots lashed at the corners of his eyes.

"Yep, gonna take that as a hell no." Tony muttered as he grabbed Peter's arms, hauling the boy to his feet before wrapping a securing arm around his waist, making sure the teen didn't have a repeat act of falling on his face.

Peter tensed at the touch, but said nothing as Tony led him out of the lab and over towards the elevator. Even as they stepped inside and began their ascent, Tony didn't remove his arm. Peter still didn't say anything.

The teen stole a small glance up at the man, but noticed that his gaze was elsewhere. He lowered his head as he felt the strong, steadying grasp of the man's grip around him. He could feel the usual shiver of uncomfortableness running down his spine at the touch, but to the teen's surprise, he didn't pull away.

Peter had grown used to the fact that any and all forms of physical contact were red flags for him. He knew this, his friends knew this. At most, he'd get a high-five from Ned or a small pat from MJ. On really bad days, he'd even go as far as to accept hugs from certain trusted people. Of course, any forms of contact were brief and brisk. He just could not handle being touched for long periods of time.

Which made the fact that he hadn't yet pulled away all the more shocking.

Peter glanced down at his slightly shaking hands and shut his eyes, surmising it all to the fact that he was just too exhausted to do anything about it. Yeah. That had to be it.

Unbeknownst to him, Tony was having similar feelings as he steeled his gaze to anywhere but the kid in his grasp. Unlike Peter, he had much more practice in masking his uncomfortableness. After all, physical contact wasn't really his cup of tea either. Apart from Rhodey, Pepper and the occasional Happy, most people weren't allowed to get close enough to touch him, let alone they actually do it.

He bit the inside of his cheek as he stole a small glance to the teen below him, Peter's eyes trailing along the floor. The billionaire turned away again, slightly shifting his hold on the kid. This didn't mean anything. This was only because the moron was too out of it to hold himself up. That was it. That had to be it.

They still said nothing.

After another moment, the elevator opened up onto the penthouse floor. Peter cracked open his eyes slightly, gasping as he took in the sight before him.

"Holy shit."

"Language."

"Heh...you sound like Natasha."

"Don't ever insult me like that again."

Peter smiled as Tony rolled his eyes, the teen barely able to look away from the room.

The elevator opened up at the back of the room, revealing a huge room that seemed to be split into two main parts. One one side, you had what appeared to be a large living room, complete with a large couch and a few chairs situated to face the huge TV that sat on the wall. Across from the living room sat a kitchen that looked like it belonged in a cooking magazine, the models and appliances all looking sleek and brand new.

Pressing one hand against the wall for support, Peter stepped away from the billionaire as he moved deeper into the room, head swiveling to take in all the sights.

As he backed away from the elevator, Peter noticed that the wall continued up before tapering off onto another second level, similar to how the lab was structured, resembling a balcony of sorts. Off to the side, near the many couches, there was a large, spiral staircase with individual hovering glass steps that led up to the higher level. However, the stairs also led down which led him to presume there was another level just underneath them.

For a moment, Peter wondered why Tony needed such a lavish and large penthouse considering it was just him living here. After all, this place seemed to be able to fit a small army.

It was then that the teen remembered that it hadn't used to be just him, his brows furrowing slightly in realization.

"Hey, kid."

Peter turned, noticing that Tony was now in the kitchen, fiddling with something in one of the many cabinets. "Get over here before you keel over, would ya'?"

A few not-well-hidden stumbles later and Peter found himself clambering onto a stool set up against the dining bar along one of the kitchen counters. The kid folded his arms on the surface of the table and rested his head, eyes lazily following Tony around the kitchen.

Peter noted how the billionaire almost seemed...lost in the kitchen, as if he'd never set foot in the room before. Considering this was the man who the teen was relying on to feed him, it probably wasn't that good of a sign.

Before he could start to worry, however, Tony was glancing back at him. "Alright, kid. Do me a favor and don't die for like, the next twenty minutes or something." He paused. "Actually," Turning back around, he reached into the fridge. Pulling out a can of soda, the man placed it on the counter in front of the boy's face. "Drink this. No wait," He turned back around. Suddenly an identical can was being placed right next to the first one. "Drink both of these."

Peter glanced up at him. "Umm..."

"No talking. Chugging."

Peter blinked at the can before his lips were curling into a grin.

"What?" Tony asked, cocking a brow.

The teen shook his head. "No, nothing. It's just...I found the next title for your autobiography."

Tony stared at him before slapping him with the dish towel, Peter ducking under the rag. "Smart-ass." The billionaire muttered with a smirk.

Peter smiled before turning back down to stare at the sodas. Without another word, he popped the tab on the first one and tipped the lip of the can back towards his mouth. The fizzy liquid swished around his tongue before falling down his throat. The frothing bubbles made it hard to chug per say, but he got it down fairly easily. The next can took him a bit longer to finish, but he did. Setting the empty can down next to the first, the boy let out a small sigh and rested his head back down on his arms.

The teen watched as Tony milled about the kitchen, fiddling with the stove as a large pot sat on one of the burners. Cursing something under his breath, the man finally seemed content as he moved away, digging around in the fridge for a moment before he pulled out some vegetables and a box of broth.

Peter let his eyes flutter shut as the man worked. He didn't sleep. But this just seemed better. Tony obviously noted the teen's exhaustion, for he said nothing as the kid rested, simply content to work in the silence.

In fact, it wasn't until at least ten or fifteen minutes had passed before the billionaire spoke up once more.

"Mkay, kid. Spill." Peter's eyes opened once more as the man continued. "I've known you for nearly two months now and something like this has never happened before. I know you're a pretty good liar when you want to be but I don't think even you could have hidden the fact that you're, oh...I don't know, casually starving in my presence." He threw the teen a disapproving look as he folded his arms. "Like...what the hell?"

Peter lifted his head and glanced down at his hands, seeming to find his fingers incredibly interesting in that moment as he traced them along the counter. "My friend, Ned. He's been sick for the past couple days. Usually, he forces me to eat something. A sandwich he packed for me. An apple or two. Something like that. He knows I don't eat all that much at home so he-"

The teen's words quickly died in his mouth as his eyes widened slightly, a panicked look washing over his face for a moment before it was replaced with a look of apprehension. Tony narrowed his eyes as he leaned against the counter. "Okay...follow-up question: Why don't you eat at home?"

Peter stared at the man for a moment, eyes flickering over the features of his face before he turned away, hands wringing together. "Umm...I...I usually don't have time to." He finally murmured softly. "With homework, chores and well...spider-man-ing...I'm usually pretty busy. Most days, I barely have time to finish all my work before my father gets home, and once he does, I have to get started on dinner. And it's not like I can actually sit with them while they're eating," He muttered, rolling his eyes. "so I usually go and finish my homework upstairs and then head out on patrol." He explained, Tony staring at him intently as he did so.

"I guess I just forget sometimes."

It wasn't a total lie. He did just forget to eat sometimes. Besides, it not like Mr. Stark had to know his father was a psycho control freak who seemed to make it his goal to torture and manipulate every aspect of his son's life.

Nobody needed to know that.

Tony continued to stare for a moment longer before he turned away, the look in his eyes lingering with Peter for a moment before it too vanished. The older man moved back over to the pot, which was boiling now with whatever liquid was being held inside. "Uh-huh...and uh...why are you the one cooking anyway?" Tony asked. The teen watched as the man grabbed an onion sitting off to the side. He peeled it before grabbing the knife. He only made a few slices in the vegetable before pausing, deciding to just dump the entire onion into the pot.

...okay?

He reached over and picked up a carrot, swinging it around in the air as he spoke. "Doesn't that seem like something your mom would be doing?" He asked absentmindedly as he began to chop the vegetable into small, uneven slices.

Peter barely registered the question as he watched the boiling pit, which was threatening to overflow. "Yeah, no. I don't think she's gonna be cooking me meals anytime soon." He muttered before raising his hand. "Umm...do you think you should...?" He murmured, gesturing towards the pot as he winced watching it begin to splash out around the rim.

Tony continued on as if he hadn't heard him. "How come?" He asked, glaring down at the carrot pieces before haphazardly tossing them into the pot.

Peter grimaced as the already frothing pot got even angrier. The word were out of his mouth before he could even understand what the question was. "Kinda hard to cook pasta when you're six feet under. You get dirt in the spaghetti sauce."

The room instantly seemed to freeze, the atmosphere quickly becoming heavy and suffocating. Nobody even moved as the pot began to boil over. Tony, whose back was still to the teen, shut his eyes tightly, mouthing a 'fuck me' before slowly turning around.

Peter seemed just as surprised as him, as if he hadn't expected the words to fall out of his mouth. His eyes were wide and his posture was as rigid as a board. He blinked rapidly before his wide eyes met Tony's. "S-sorry...I...I-I...sorry, that's was...I mean...I-I didn't...didn't mean to...t-to..."

"Kid, hey." Tony cut him off, lifting his hands. "Why are you apologizing? I'm the asshole here." He scoffed, though there was very little humor behind it. What made things worse was that Tony already knew that. He knew Peter's mother was...gone. That was one of the first things that'd he'd discovered when he'd researched the teen all those months ago.

Just can't stop spewing out the garbage huh, Stark? Well, points for mentioning the dead mother. What now? Gonna bring in the douchebag dad? Maybe a school bully? Or, better yet! Why don't you just slug the kid in the face. Yeah! That's it, you idiot.

Peter seemed to be in just as much, if not, even more turmoil than Tony as he stared down at his hands. "Sorry..." He said once more. "Just used to...to ignoring her, I guess." He said softly.

Tony furrowed his brow at that. "What do you mean?" He asked, despite his better judgement. He didn't really trust his mouth at the moment.

Peter glanced at him for a moment before staring back down at his hands. "Dad doesn't like it when I walk about her." He whispered. "He gets mad. Like...like really mad."

The man's face twitched angrily at that, but he held his tongue, knowing whatever he said on the matter probably wouldn't do any good. In fact, it probably would have been best if he stopped talking altogether and just finished whatever disaster he was currently cooking. Stuff like this...this was all feelings. Emotions, turmoil, pain...not really his thing. He usually tried to stay away from topics such as these. For when it came to him, he had the delicacy of a bull in a china shop.

A robot bull.

With lasers.

And rockets.

On steroids.

After all, he wasn't really the best when it came to retraining strong emotions. Siberia was a prime example of him losing control and he definitely wasn't about to risk that again. Or worse, making Peter risk that. Having only caught a few glimpses of the teen's true anger, he hated to wonder what it would be like if the teen ever did lose control like he had.

Still, he couldn't help but take in the sight of Peter's face. He knew that face. He recognized that face. it was identical to the one that had plagued his face after...after...

He'd tried to hold it in too. But nobody ever told him that avoiding the pain was just as torturous as confronting it. He glanced back at Peter. He couldn't force the kid to talk. Heaven knew dozens of people had tried that with him and all it'd done was make him more and more reclusive. He'd tried to refuse. But at every corner, it seemed as if there had been someone trying to pry the truth out of him. As if they were taking away his right to choose whether or not to talk through his pain.

No...he couldn't force Peter to speak. But that didn't mean he couldn't give him what he'd never had: the right to choose.

"Do...do you want... to talk about her?" His hesitations were clear in his voice.

Peter narrowed his eyes and clenched his fists. "No." He growled, his face morphing slightly into an unreadable expression. "I...I don't know. She..." It was obvious he'd never done something like this before. He was flustered. But he wasn't tripping over his words, so Tony assumed he was okay.

Well...as okay as one could be when talking about...you know...

The teen let out a small sigh. "She was...I was only four when she died so...I...I-I..."

"What happened?" The billionaire asked, the words out of his mouth before he could stop them. His eyes widened as his brain began to catch up to his big mouth. Fucking goddamn it, man! Like, come on! Peter stared at him as he tried to backtrack, tripping over his own feet as he did so. "You know what? Never mind. Forget I even said anything, kid. I'm just-"

"No."

He looked up.

Peter's face was tight as he stared at his hands, as if he couldn't pull his gaze away from them. "No...it's okay. I..." He let out a small humorless laugh. "It's so stupid. I was like, only a toddler when it happened, but I still remember it so well, you know?"

He trailed off for a moment, not saying anything. For a second, Tony wondered if maybe he'd changed his mind, but after another second, he opened his mouth.

"It was raining outside. Thundering. I didn't like it. It was loud." His words were clipped. His voice tight. But he didn't stop. Tony didn't say anything. Peter continued.

"She came into my room. I knew something was wrong cause...cause she was scared." He glanced back up. "I didn't like that either. She...she pulled me from the bed and took me downstairs." He gripped his hands together tightly. "That's when I started to hear the gunshots."

"Gunshots?" Tony echoed, his voice low.

Peter barely gave a nod. "They...they sounded like thunder. The...t-the thundering. It...i...it confused me. And it was loud. Like...i couldn't...it was t-too loud and...I-I..." He grit his teeth as he squeezed his eyes shut, his shaking hands digging into his jeans as the distant sound of thundering began to fill his ears. But they were sharp. The noises. It was sharp. And loud. Too sharp to be thunder. God he...he couldn't do this. It was too loud and he couldn't-

He blinked open his eyes as he felt a strong hand grip his shoulder, quickly dragging him back to reality. He glanced up and noticed Tony was now leaning closer, brow furrowed in an expression Peter couldn't really identify. But he didn't care. The noise, whatever that had been, it was gone again.

The billionaire stared down at him. "You don't have to keep going if-"

"No." Peter shook his head, shutting his eyes for a brief moment once again. "I...I have to do this. I just...I..." Tony nodded, clearly understanding as he took another step back.

Peter sucked in a deep breath as he stared back down at his hands, tracing each line as he continued, the motion seeming to calm him. "She...she hid me in a closet and closed the door. There were a lot of gunshots after that."

Tony raised a brow. "Where was your dad?"

Peter shook his head. "I don't know. It was just me and my mom in the house at the time. I think he was at the office when it happened. Anyway, when everything got quiet, I went to check what was happening. I wasn't supposed to. I was supposed to stay in the closet, stay hidden, but...but I was scared and I wanted to...to see her, you know?" He asked, raising his head. He didn't wait for a reply.

"I got out. I...I went to check...the...the living room and..." He lifted his hands slightly. "and...that was it." He murmured, dropping his hands back down into his lap. A small smile crept onto his face, but Tony couldn't help but feel a little uneasy at the sight. "It's funny, really." Peter chuckled. "I thought I'd only lost one parent in the break in. But, turns out my dad died that night, too." He sighed. "At least a part of him did."

He turned away as the pair lapsed into silence. The only sound was the frothing of the pot and the hiss of the liquid reaching the burner underneath. Tony said nothing as he turned away. What was he supposed to say anyway? What could he possibly say that hadn't already been said? It wasn't like it would change anything.

This wasn't his thing. Comfort, words of encouragement. But he wondered if such things would really be of much help in that moment. He'd relieved plenty of kind words when his parents had died and it had done nothing to ease the pain. In fact, he remembered moments where such words had made him mad. It wasn't their tragedy. What right did they have to be sorry? Their words meant nothing. Nothing but hollow apologies and cold comfort.

He glanced over at Peter, who continued to stare down at his lap. Tony remembered all those people. He hated them. Hated how shallow they all were. Hated how they tried to beat around the bush and stepped on eggshells around him. Like he was this fragile thing that deserved their pity.

He stared at the teenager across from him. Peter didn't need that. He didn't deserve those empty words.

So, as he moved the pot off the burner, he said the first thing that popped into his mind, something he'd secretly wished someone would have said to him.

"Yeah, that shit sucks, doesn't it?" Cause it did. And it had.

Peter lifted his head and cocked a brow. "That's...one way to put it." He muttered, though he didn't seem too bothered by the words. A little surprised, maybe, but not bothered. In fact, he almost looked...amused.

The billionaire leaned his elbow against the counter, gazing back at the teen. "Well, I can honestly say I know how that feels, kid." He muttered. "My parents died when I was only a few years older than you, so I guess it was a little easier on me." He sighed, Peter staring back at him with those large, longing eyes of him. Those eyes that made Tony want to talk and keep talking until he finally said something that made him worthy of the praise gleaming in those hazel pools.

"Still...it's hard when you're alone."

Peter blinked at him before letting out a small breath, turning his gaze away. "Yeah...I know how that feels, too." He whispered.

"Well you shouldn't." The boy turned back towards the man at the tone of his voice. There was something there. Something he hadn't heard before. It wasn't pity. He knew what pity sounded like. He hated the sound. No, this...this was almost like...understanding. Hmm...it sounded...strange. Not bad, just...strange. Uncommon.

"So for that...I'm sorry." Tony finished, his eyes reflecting something Peter rarely saw in them. A rawness the teen was certain the older man often tried to cover up. He knew how that felt too.

The billionaire quickly seemed to notice his slip, for he blinked and it was gone. He let out a small cough against the back of his hand as he pushed off the counter, tuning away from the boy as he moved back over towards the pot. "Jeez..." He muttered as he stared at the concoction.

"Well, not gonna lie, kid. I'm only like, sixty percent sure this is edible." He scoffed as he began to fill a small bowl with the liquid. "Eh... make it forty" He winced as he stole another glance at the liquid. "But you don't have that many options. I can't just keep loading you up with soda so here you go." He grimaced as he placed the bowl down in front of the teen.

The broth was a dark yellow with swirls of brown mingled in throughout. The teen glanced back up, giving the man a small smile. "Trust me, Mr. Stark, I've had worse."

Tony smirked. "I doubt it, kid."

Peter leaned forward, cocking a brow. "Do you know what's in the dumpsters behind those 24 hour buffet places? Cause I do."

The man stared at him in shock for a moment before an involuntary shudder racked his body. Peter nodded. "Yeah, exactly." He chuckled as he grabbed the spoon next to the bowl and took a sip of the soup.

He didn't want to say it was...bad. More like his tongue refused to accept that it was even touching such a thing - cause it definitely wasn't food. So...pretty bad. It tasted a little like he'd just juiced an onion of whatever juice it had inside, dumped in an entire container of salt and then mixed the entire thing up in a toilet bowl...while on fire.

Tony couldn't help the smile that formed on his face at the teen's expression. "Still think you've had worse?"

Peter swallowed the liquid that had been in his mouth with a small groan before giving a small shrug of his shoulder. "Well I mean, I didn't have to fight with a raccoon over this so...silver linings."

The man chuckled. "It's fine, kid. I know it has to be terrible." He muttered as he grabbed a spoon from the sink and dipped it into the bowl. He'd barely even allowed the liquid to touch his tongue before he was spitting into the sink, Peter flinching back with a laugh. "God!" Tony breathed. "Forget the starvation. This right here is what's gonna do you in." He scoffed, Peter snickering behind his hand. "Actually, I think the starvation is more humane." The billionaire grimaced.

Peter shrugged his shoulder as Tony continued to shiver at the violation of his tastebuds. "You know, it would probably be a lot better if you counter the saltiness with a little pinch of sugar and then maybe add a bit of lemon juice to counter the onion taste." He explained, before pausing. "Like...like a lot of lemon juice. Like...a lot a lot of lemon juice."

"Okay, okay, I get it." Tony scoffed as Peter grinned. "How come you know so much about cooking anyway?" The man asked as he folded his arms.

Peter waved one hand dismissively. "I cool every day for a house of six people." He muttered. "I kinda had to learn it fast."

"Right." Tony uttered.

Peter glanced down at the...soup? before him, grimacing as a bubble emerged in the thick liquid before popping. "Umm...Mr. Stark? I don't mean to sound rude or ungrateful or anything, but umm...do you think maybe we can make something else?" He asked with a pained look on his face. It was probably from the fact that he was like, ninety percent sure the soup had just growled at him.

The man nodded. "Sure, but whatever else I make probably isn't gonna turn out much better than that." He pointed with a disgusted look towards the soup.

Peter smiled. "I know. That's why I said 'we'".

Tony cocked a brow as he stared at the teen, though he couldn't help the small smile that fell onto his face. Peter hopped down from the stool, content with the fact that he didn't sway. "How's breakfast for dinner sound?"

The billionaire glanced back over towards the growling soup. "Better than death." He muttered. "Fire away, kid." He called as Peter began to make his way over towards the fridge.

As he watched the teen grab a carton and place it on the counter, he couldn't help the small nagging feeling that had been burning in his chest ever since Peter had revealed what he had. He stared at the boy for a moment in deliberation, wondering whether or not it was actually a good idea before he decided it couldn't hurt.

Walking forward, the man placed a hand on Peter's shoulder, the boy gazing up with a questioning look. He stared down for a second before speaking. "I'm sorry about your mom, Peter." The words were soft, quiet. But both Tony and Peter could feel the gravity of them.

The teen searched the older man's face for a moment before he took a small breath. "I'm sorry about your parents."

Tony's fingers twitched slightly at that, but for some reason, the words he'd heard millions of times seemed...different. As if they held a whole new meaning just by having this one teenager speak them. Maybe it was how he said it. How they'd both said it.

No pity. Just understanding.

The billionaire nodded.

"I'm sorry for feeding you poison."

Peter couldn't stop the laugh from falling from his lips. "I don't think even poison tastes that much like onions."

---

Wednesday - March 30, 2016

Stark Tower - Penthouse

06:24 p.m.

"Okay, it's official. This is impossible." Tony muttered as he tried to fold over his omelet. The edges simply cracked as the egg began to tear and break, bits and pieces of it sticking to the pan. "I-" He started, only to pause as he glanced over at Peter. The teen folded his omelet over perfectly, the edges a pristine golden brown as he slid the entire thing effortlessly off the pan and onto the plate beside him.

Tony narrowed his eyes and pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek. "There's a lot to not like about you, Mr. Parker."

Peter threw him a cheeky grin as he placed the skillet into the pan. "I don't know what you're talking about. You're doing great...if you're going for scrambled eggs." He chuckled with a small sympathetic smile.

Tony glared back at the pan. "Questa è una cazzo di cazzata." He muttered under his breath.*

Peter scrunched his nose. "Stop cursing." He scolded, placing his hands on his hips. Tony quirked a brow. "How do you know I'm cursing? You don't even know Italian!"

The teen sniffed. "Context clues." He teased, smile growing as Tony's grumbling raised in volume.

Peter placed the plated omelet down onto the island in the middle of the kitchen, which already held an assortment of different dishes, ranging from burnt bacon to burnt toast to burnt...oatmeal. Peter couldn't tell.

Well...he was getting...better.

Tony haphazardly pushed out the contents of the pan out onto the plate next to him. "There, that's as good as it's getting." He muttered as he folded his arms. Peter giggled as he grabbed the plate and placed it next to his. "Better than the last batch." He called, Tony letting out a small hum.

The pair moved over towards the island as they stared at the multiple plates of food. "We don't have to eat all of this, do we?" The teen asked. Tony shook his head. "Nah, we'll just force Happy to eat it or something."

"Cool."

The billionaire watched as Peter moved back over towards the counter, where a freshly mixed bowl of uncooked pancake batter sat. The man watched with slightly furrowed brow as the kid gave the bowl a slight stir, a nagging topic hanging in the back of his mind. He knew it wasn't gonna go away until he addressed it.

"Kid?"

Peter turned towards him. Tony moved closer. "I don't want this happening again." He sighed, continuing as Peter gave him a confused look. "As in, I don't want you showing up here hungry anymore alright. I can't have you hiding something like that from me."

Peter lowered his gaze. "Mr. St-"

"Ah, ah, ah! Let me finish" He interrupted, the teen falling silent. "I can't have you going hungry when I'm literally the most equipped person to help you with that." He scoffed as he tossed his hands into the air exasperatedly.

He leaned closer and placed his hands onto the teen's shoulders, Peter tensing for a second before a small laugh fell from his lips as Tony gently shook the boy back and forth. "Listen to me, tiny human. If you're hungry, I need you to tell me, alright?" He quirked a brow. "Cause if Pepper finds you passed out on my lab floor, she's gonna make me eat more Devil Soup, mkay? And I'm gonna tell you, kid. I don't think my heart can take any more of that."

The teen let out a small laugh before Tony gave his shoulder a small squeeze. "Do you think you can do that, kid?" He asked, the humor leaving his face, quickly being replaced with a concerned frown. Peter stared at him for a moment, glancing down at the floor in thought before he stared back up at the billionaire. He felt his fingers twitching, but ignored them. Instead, he gave a small smile as he nodded his head.

The man nodded his head as he patted the teen's shoulder. "Good deal, Baby Genius." He called as he moved away, Peter giving a small groan. "That's sticking now, huh? Great..."

Tony threw a smirk his way, moving over towards the bowl of cake batter. "How many more of these do I have to screw up until we're done?" He muttered as he picked up the bowl of batter.

Peter giggled. "You're not that bad. Besides, we only have a few more. I'm not giving up until you've at least tried your hand at each of these. From what you told me, you only ever once tried to make an omelet."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Yeah, it was horrible." He muttered as he popped the batter-covered wooden spoon into his mouth. "This, however, is not. Seriously, I know I shouldn't be eating this but it's like the best thing I've ever tasted in my life." He said as Peter gave his own eye roll.

"Welp, I'm thinking a breakfast sandwich might be a bit above your level right now."

"Pshh...thanks."

Peter scrunched his nose. "Don't pretend that it isn't. We both know it's true and- would you stop eating the batter?! That's bad for you! It's not even cooked!"

Tony glared at him. "Fottiti, questa è l'unica cosa buona della mia vita in questo momento."*

The teen pouted right back. "Stop cursing! My baby ears are burning." He moaned overdramatically while Tony rolled his eyes. "Please, this coming from the kid that spend like, an hour with a wanted assassin."

Peter placed his hands on his hips. "That's not going away anytime soon, huh?"

Tony smirked at him as Peter sighed. "Whatever. Anyway, since you're kinda already there - and it'll keep you away from the uncooked batter - we could at least try some scrambled eggs. They should be easy for you. They require no finesse."

The billionaire threw him a look. "Thanks." He deadpanned. Peter giving him an apologetic smile. "You know what I mean. Can you pass me the pepper?"

"Pepe, kid. Pepe." Tony corrected as he handed the teen the shaker. He'd decided around an hour ago that if Peter was gonna make him look like a fool when it came to this, then he was gonna relish in hearing the boy sound like a fool. So, long story short, Peter was now learning two new languages.

Peter nodded. "Right, like the skunk."

"What now?"

The kid turned to look at him as he shrugged. "Pepé Le Pew? You know, Looney Tunes? Bugs Bunny. Daffy Duck."

Tony gave him an odd stare. "Are these words coming out of your mouth right now?"

"Haven't you ever watched Looney Tunes?" Peter asked with an incredulous stare.

Tony rolled his eyes. "Yeah, cause I look like the kind of guy that watches cartoons." He muttered.

Peter shrugged his shoulders as he lowered his head. "Well you're Italian and you can't cook for shit so I don't know what to think." He murmured under his breath, puffing his cheeks slightly as Tony stared at him with an unreadable expression.

Suddenly, Peter found himself letting out a loud shout of shock as a handful of cold, pancake batter was being shoved into his face. He sputtered as he wiped the thick, sticky substance away from his eyes. He whirled around to stare at Tony, who didn't look the least bit regretful.

"HEY!" Peter shouted, forgetting for a second who he was talking to. Tony didn't seem to care at all as his face held the barest hints of a smirk. "What?"

The teen opened his mouth, only to pause as he caught sight of something past the kitchen. The billionaire seemed to notice the teen's shift, for he turned around as well, eyes widening at the sight.

Pepper, Rhodey, Happy and Natasha were all sitting at the dining bar, identical smirks adorning each of their faces. Happy and Rhodey both had their phones out as Nat gave a small wave. "What are you two boys up to?" She called innocently.

Rhodey rested his cheek on his fist. "Gotta say, Tones. I'm pretty pleased. Now I know what to get you for Christmas this year. A nice pretty apron." He chuckled.

Pepper chuckled as Happy leaned closer. "Make sure it's Iron Man themed."

"Or else he won't wear it." Natasha added.

Peter tried to hide his grin as he glanced back up at Tony, who had yet to say anything, his face blank. Finally, the man seemed to snap out of his stupor as he clicked his lips together, casually wiping a large slab of batter off of Peter's cheek before hurling it towards Rhodey and Happy, the two men ducking underneath the projectile as Peter burst out laughing.

"Pete, you know what I said before about all this food?"

"Y-yeah..." The teen breathed through his laughs.

"Scratch that. They're all eating this shit now."

The four intruders in the room seemed to pale at that. Tony glanced over at Peter as the kid continued to giggle, the billionaire poking the teen in the cheek.

"You got something on your face."

---

5) I Will Never Eat Without Permission . . . . At Home

---

* This is fucking bullshit.

*Fuck you, this is the only good thing going on in my life right now.

Fun Fact: Tony Stark is speculated to be part Italian, at least on his mother's side. His mother's maiden name, Carbonell, is likely a shortened or Americanized version of the common Italian surname Carbonelli or Carbonello. For some reason, the idea of Tony mostly using his Italian just as a means to curse is hilarious to me. So I decided to add it in as another little bond between him and Peter. So, just as Natasha is teaching him Russian, Tony teaches him a little Italian on the side.

Welp, hope you all enjoyed that fluffy goodness that was this chapter. Just had to ride out some spiky angst thorns to get there, but you made it eventually!

Also, I've been getting some private messages from readers asking if whether or not their constant commenting is somehow annoying and I would just like to put this out there just in case any of you are having similar doubts...ahem...

DON'T STOP COMMENTING MY LOVELIES!

Seriously, though. I rate how well a certain chapter was received based on how many of my readers felt inclined to comment, you know to take time out of their actual day to do something they so don't have to do and if makes me feel so great to see that a chapter got a lot of comments. I take the time to read all of them so don't think I don't appreciate them, cause I most certainly do!

I feel like there was something else I wanted to tell you guys, I just can't figure it out right now...

Oh well, thanks to these people for favoriting and/or following: CupcakeCookie21, Maddy Love Castiel, PrincesNaina, king andos, AltoOwl, justwannawritesanonymous, BurningRosethorn, manya20, K4zuk1, MaraudersandHarry, 1-800fangirl, Ljo998, BabyPinkPuppy, CharHarvey, ZEMD06; Aelo1669, FantasyGirl1329, YamadaNisako, nelliej2324, The Great Katabawa, ParkerAlexis88, XxlaurynxX, nananatz

Reviews:

FanficFan920: Guess you'll just have to wait and see ;)

Luckias:Well here's a nice little end to your cliffhanger so you can sleep easy now. Man, I will always accept your cookies. Now shower me. Shower me in you pastry goodness. Tough break dude, hopefully by the time this chapter is ut the movie will be ready and waiting for you on the other side. Anyway, you definitely have to see it. It was quite a refreshing movie after the sobfest that was fucking Infinity War. Hate that goddamn movie for making me feel things I don't want to feel! Dude, your comments could never be a problem for me. I base how well my stories are rating by how often my readers feel inclined to comment so don't be shy.

HeCallsMeBeloved: *Begins to do the Robot-Caveman dance from that one Spongebob BC episode* *quickly stops and sits when realizes nobody knows what you're talking about*

PrincessNaina: We got tears! I repeat! We got tears! Let me just go ahead and mark down what chapter this took place in and...yep. Honey, you better strap in cause if you think that's as sad as we're going in this story you are in for a very watery ride!

Seawell: *awkwardly pats back when hug lasts too long* Still feels good! Yep, I'm basically counting down the days I have left before I have to enter back into the hellscape that is high school. Conversing with a bunch of superficial, self-centered whiny brats who never got taught the lesson that their opinions don't matter all that much and that they aren't as special as their parents made them out to be. God, don't you just love it? And people wonder why my stories are so sad and angsty. I'm a teenage girl! Angst is basically what I drink on a daily basis! JK, my sister's like that though and I want to murder her more times than I can count...maybe that's why my stories are so dark...hmm...
Anwhoo! I know I can count on my readers! I lone all'yall. Whoops, sounded too much like I'm from Florida there! Sorry! Now I gotta go! There's an alligator in my pool and then I have to go with my family to Disney World cause apparently that's all there is in Florida. Alligators wearing Mickey Hats.
That lowkey sounds awesome...

ParadoxicOrder8: Dude, I can't even drive yet XD

Phoenixhp5: Gracias, amigo. I'm definitely gonna take my time with this story, but I'm a pretty impatient person so I at least try and to extent the courtesy of updating regularly cause that's what I'd want someone welse to do for me. Plus, I gotta do something when I'm daydreaming in class. Might as well be planning for the next chapter XD

Toni42: Nah, man. I with writing was my whole life. I would be so happy if it was. MJ and Flash will be getting more spotlight moments as well as Ned. Gotta love Ned. The Rogues will be getting the same treatment end woof! Tension? Boy, you haven't seen anything yet!

Qwertywerido: Woof, tell your friend I'm sorry

RosettaQueen: Well, ya gotta give the kid some credit here. Just depends on who he's lying to. I;ll be sure to highlight those distinctions more as the story progresses.

LOST in the supermarket: New update man! Lengthy and wordy and stupidly long! Just as you all like them...i guess XD

LoonyLovegood1981: You're good, man. I've just gotten some private comments saying how they hate the format of this story and all that whiny bullshit from people who definitely couldn't do better if their grammar in those messages was any indication XD ANywhoo...just glad you're not one of those assholes.

AltoOwl: Honey, conflict is my middle name.

momocandy: How...DARE you not leave a review?! I specifically state that any and all people who have the GALL to read my story must post a comment with NO HATE within the first five minutes of clicking! I accept NO FLAMES! If you con't like don't read! Nobody deserves criticism! It is hatred and pure jealousy and could never do an author actual good like telling them their weak points in writing and giving them a good basis on where they can improve and better their skills! Preposterous! And how can you have the audacity to read this story in your own work place, taking the time to relax and honor me by using your break time to read my story! Where do you get the nerve?! And you bet your ass you follow this golden shit to the end of the line! But it's not like I need you or whatever! It's not like the support and love from readers such as yourself actually motivates me to continue writing for such fans and lovelies and other wonderful people like you! You're insane if you think otherwise! :(

Agent blue rose: Ahh...Natasha. Everyone's favorite boss ass bitch

xXCinderzXx: Hola! Gotta love those who prioritize reading over actual human needs! Guess you'll have to wait and see on who this mystery character is. But I'll give you a hint...it's neither of those XD sorry!