Sorry I'm late! On the plus side, I survived a week-long road trip across about half of the US safely. I'm way behind on comments, but I'll try to catch up as I can.
The theme for this chapter is "Confident" by Demi Lovato.
Enjoy!
Chapter 6: This Is My Ground
June was both May's favorite and least favorite time in the city.
On the one hand, New York got very warm in summer, peaking in July but staying uncomfortably hot long into September and even October some years. And a warm city meant irritated people, literal steam rising from the sidewalks, sweltering subways and buses, and a lot more smell out on the street. The Hudson wasn't a clean water source to begin with, and the warmer it got, the more it carried its own special odor into the masses of people, garbage, construction, exhaust, and everything else that filled the air enough to choke.
But, on the other hand, June was when the city had some fun. Block parties became a weekly occurrence in every borough, to say nothing of the Pride celebrations that took up most of the month, and the lead-up to the Fourth of July involved spontaneous displays of fireworks at random intervals (always immediately followed by the sound of police cars trying, usually futilely, to put a stop to them). The wealthy and affluent had traditionally abandoned the city for weeks when summer got serious; everybody else found ways to enjoy themselves. So parks filled up with gatherings and picnics, outdoor music and movie festivals took up anywhere there was space, and parties spread and mixed until four blocks down nobody knew what they were celebrating anymore.
May's shifts at the hospital tended to be full with an influx of heatstroke, injuries from fireworks or bonfires, and fights when tempers rose alongside the temperatures adding to the usual mix of accidents and illnesses. As one of the few people on her floor who could say that she always had reliable air conditioning (a true luxury in Queens), she opted to take shifts mostly overnight or in the cooler hours so her coworkers could escape the heat during the day in the hospital and spend their evenings with their families. Also, May sort of loved the late nights. That's when the weird things happened — people getting items stuck in questionable orifices, a troop of half-drunken sports enthusiasts with barbeque-related injuries, folks who had felt unwell all day but waited until after dinner to seek help. Hospitals were never quiet, but the evening had a different feel to it and May enjoyed it.
Two years ago, she had taken these summer late shifts knowing Ben was taking care of Peter. A year ago, she had skipped them in the rush of moving out of Forest Hills. But now, with Tony Stark keeping watch, she again let herself return to the chaos of the overnight pattern. Peter was in the last few weeks of school in June, but she was home in time to see him off in the mornings before she dropped into bed, and she had time to eat dinner with him before her return to work while he spent his evenings on final projects, studying for exams, or visiting Tony in the workshop.
It was a familiar rhythm, and May knew she wasn't the only one who appreciated it after all the chaos of the last few months. Or maybe even the last year and a half.
The overnight schedule also meant May didn't have to take time off specifically to attend the year-end ceremony at Peter's school on the last day. It was mainly geared towards the eighth graders who were graduating to high school, but there were mentions of the other classes and awards given for achievements. May and Tony sat in the back and clapped louder than anyone when Peter won the award for the most consistent and highest grades out of all seventh graders.
Peter's face was beet red when he carried the certificate to them afterwards, and May made sure to get about a half-million pictures to add to her albums compiled by JARVIS.
They went to the diner in the Tower to celebrate, joined by Pepper and Bruce and Natasha who happened to be around. Peter did an excellent imitation of a tomato every time someone praised his perfect grades or reminded him of his robotics win, but he laughed, too, and smiled even more than he stuttered and looked bashful.
And Tony caught May's eye and winked.
Their kid was happy.
May had to excuse herself to the restroom at one point, leaning on the pristine counter while caught between laughter and tears. It was Pepper who followed her in there.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm...I never thought...after Ben…" May shook her head. "I was afraid we'd be alone. And I would...I would do anything for Peter. But I couldn't...he deserved so much more love than I…"
Pepper smiled and rubbed May's back. "You love him enough for a hundred people," she said, "and he still deserves more. Everybody deserves to be loved to the moon and back."
"I'm just so glad." May wiped at her eyes and gave into the joyful laugh that triggered more tears anyway. "That he's...that we both…"
"You're not alone anymore. Either of you." And Pepper's gaze was knowing. "And you never will be."
The two of them returned to the restaurant, but hung back watching. Peter and Bruce and Tony had fallen into some kind of heated scientific debate, and Natasha was smiling softly at them. Tony began demonstrating something with a salt shaker, but its top wasn't on all the way and he ended up spilling the entire contents of salt all over his plate of food and into his drink.
Tony stared at his salt-infused food with round, wide eyes. "That...was not how this was supposed to go," he managed.
Peter laughed until he was hiccupping, and Bruce had tears on his cheeks and even Natasha was red in the face.
And May and Pepper laughed, too, but May would always cherish the memory of the helpless, bright, unrestrained joy on Peter's face in that moment the most. There was no trace of grief in him, of fear, of doubt. No hint of the boy who had lost so much and cried himself to sleep for so long. There was just a boy, nearly a teenager, utterly content and full of delight. It was all May had ever wanted for him.
May knew there would be difficult days ahead, that Parker luck never made life easy, that their association with Tony Stark might bring more danger into their lives again. She knew that heartbreak was part of life, that doubt would find its way back into Peter's heart, that pain was inevitable.
She was so thankful that Peter had moments like this to remember when those came.
-==OOO==-
It happened in the last full week of June. Peter had been out of school for less than two weeks, and he was already looking forward to the summer. Mister Stark was around a little less now that he had to help the Avengers get ready to start going on missions to root out whatever was left of Hydra. But he had promised that he would not miss their Thursdays and Saturdays unless he was literally across the world. That, along with a promise that Peter could join him at the Tower whenever he wanted, did a lot to make up for any absences as far as Peter was concerned.
The news was still buzzing even two months later about what was being called the 'fall of the Triskelion' and the government was still figuring out what to do about SHIELD, but Mister Stark said Peter didn't need to worry about it, so he didn't.
Also, politics was boring, even when it did have to do with people he knew. But the good guys had won and they were going to deal with the bad guys, and what else really mattered?
Peter was less than two months shy of being thirteen years old, which meant he was finally allowed to take the train all the way to Ned's on his own as long as Ned's parents and Aunt May or Mister Stark knew exactly when he got on and when he got off at both ends and he didn't ride it after sunset. Aunt May had ridden the route with him twice before letting him do it on his own, and both she and Mister Stark had gone over all the safety procedures about how to protect himself, how to keep an eye on his surroundings, and what to do if he got into trouble.
"I made you that watch for a reason, Pete," Mister Stark had said firmly, "so if you need help, use it."
Peter also knew that JARVIS was watching his every step through security cameras as well as his watch and phone, so he was barely alone in the first place. But, still, the first time he did it was both terrifying and exciting. Even Ned wasn't allowed on the subway trains alone yet, but his parents were always extra protective.
It was a Tuesday, and Peter had spent the whole day at Ned's, staying until after dinner. He had texted Aunt May and Mister Stark when he got on the train in Ned's neighborhood since Aunt May was going to be on shift at the hospital soon, and the ride itself was uneventful for a Tuesday evening with no sports games. Days when the baseball teams played filled the cars with loud, jersey-wearing fans who were either thrilled (at the start or after a win) or morose and grouchy (after a loss). Peter hadn't ridden alone during football or basketball or hockey season yet, but he figured it would be the same, except colder. Even so, he kind of enjoyed the fans and their enthusiasm even when they squashed him into the smallest possible space and smelled like popcorn and beer.
He got off the train and headed up the stairs from the underground to the surface. The evening was still uncomfortably warm with the day's heat radiating up from the sidewalk, though the sun had started casting long shadows along the street. Peter sent a quick text both to Ned and Aunt May and Mister Stark confirming he was on his way home.
He was two blocks from their building when he felt a sharp blow on the back of his shoulder.
"Ow!" He spun.
"Hey, princess."
Three people stood there, grinning at Peter. One he didn't recognize; the kid was taller than the rest of them and broader in the shoulders the way high school kids were. The others were Johnny and Dutch.
"This is my big brother Jeremy," Johnny said, his grin dark.
"I don't like how you got Johnny in trouble, you punk," Jeremy said. "The high school is already making him go through some kind of remediation program from what you said he did."
Peter took a step back. But he lifted his eyes to the bigger boy. "He did do it. They tried to hurt me three separate times."
"You also ruined our chance at the robotics program at Stark Industries," Dutch accused. "That was going to make us famous."
Peter absolutely did not mean to laugh. But he couldn't help it. He hadn't thought about the robotics club competition after everything with Hydra, but of course Miss Romanoff was there with an offer from Mister Stark's company when she tricked them into leaving him alone. And, because either Mister Stark or Miss Pepper clearly set something up, Peter knew that these kids hadn't stood a chance.
However, laughing was apparently the wrong move.
"You're gonna pay for screwing everything up!" Johnny yelled.
Peter decided that this was a situation he didn't want to be in, so he started to run. He only had to make it a short distance to get home.
Feet pounded after him on the pavement, and Peter's chest hitched as he tried to breathe the hot, stale summer air. He knew if he got into the building that he would be safe, that JARVIS would never let them in. JARVIS was probably calling Mister Stark or Aunt May right now.
As he stepped off the curb and rounded the corner, for one moment he thought about the button on his watch.
Instead, he put on a burst of speed.
I don't want them to always have to save me. I want to be able to save myself.
He decided at the last minute to head for the back door that led to the parking lot rather than the front door because there were a lot more stairs out front and Peter was already getting winded. He dodged around the cars in the nearest spaces and shot for the door.
He even heard the door click open for him — Thank you, JARVIS — but a flying tackle caught him around the middle and he hit the unforgiving ground hard.
"You think your mommy will protect you?" came Dutch's voice in Peter's ear, arms wrapped tight around Peter's body. "Oh, right, you don't have one!"
"I got him." And Jeremy caught Peter in a hold with one arm around his neck and another twisting Peter's arm up around his back. The similarity to Hydra on the roof made Peter suck in a breath in terror.
"Jeremy's on the wrestling team," Johnny said, looking smug. "He's getting a scholarship to SUNY Albany for it."
"Come on," Jeremy said. "Let's take this somewhere private."
"Let me go!" Peter shouted, squirming. But he was at least six inches too short and a million pounds too small to break the grip.
They dragged him around the garage, which meant he could see the door to Mister Stark's workshop. He knew JARVIS could see him on the cameras now, knew Mister Stark had to know what was happening, knew he would come. But he didn't know how long it would take help to arrive. If Mister Stark hadn't burst out of the workshop already, he must not be in Queens today.
Jeremy let go of Peter only to throw him up against the chain-link fence that separated the apartment property from the warehouses beyond.
"Stupid kid," he muttered. "This is your own fault, you know. Now you're going to pay for all of it."
Peter closed his fingers on the metal links, propping himself up. His chest burned and he needed to calm his breathing down and take his inhaler right now, but he wasn't going to get the chance. The three kids stood around him, menacing, and, suddenly, Peter found himself laughing again.
"You...you already got in trouble for hurting me," he said. "So you're just going to get in more trouble? Really?" He eyed Jeremy. "Isn't it going to be a lot worse for you because you're older?"
Jeremy actually reached out and smacked Peter's face in an open-handed slap. Peter's head rang against the metal fence and he felt his teeth cut the inside of his cheek.
Johnny appeared on Peter's other side. "Shut up. This time, you're not going to tell anybody. And if you're a good boy, maybe we'll leave you alone after this."
"Somehow," Peter said, "I don't believe you."
Dutch aimed a kick for somewhere Peter did not want to take a kick, and he turned just in time to catch it on his thigh instead.
"This is our neighborhood," Dutch said, kicking again for good measure. "We don't want you here. Maybe you should jump off a bridge and save us the trouble of giving you a push."
"Is that why your parents are dead?" Johnny asked. He threw a punch but only hit Peter in the shoulder. "Did they throw themselves in front of a train just to get away from you?"
"Gotta be tough to have a kid who's this weak," Jeremy said, arms folded like he was giving a lecture. "They're better off dead than knowing what kind of wimp you are."
"Hey, maybe if you jump off a bridge," Dutch said, "then your aunt will be glad you're gone too." He threw his whole body at Peter, and Peter rolled along the fence to dodge.
"Worthless princess," Johnny said. "Why don't you just go down already?" He threw a punch and Peter caught it on the shoulder. He only kept from falling by grabbing onto the fence again.
Peter shook his head. His cheek was stinging and the other hits he'd taken left bruises, but it was nothing like being under the punching bags. And he was nothing like the kid he'd been then.
That Peter Parker didn't have the Avengers texting him on a daily basis and wanting to be his friend. That Peter Parker didn't have JARVIS in his pocket and Tony Stark himself as his padrino. That Peter Parker hadn't seen Iron Man in the sky coming to save him from real bad guys.
And while the words hurt, and Peter knew they'd show up in his dreams, he didn't actually believe them. Because May loved Peter as much as she'd loved Ben. Because Tony Stark never said anything he didn't mean, and he loved Peter. Because Peter had a family and nothing three mean kids said could make him believe they didn't want him.
Even if he hoped Mister Stark would come soon.
So Peter got up again, straightening his spine against the fence. It poked through his t-shirt, and he could feel a tiny trickle of blood at the corner of his mouth trying to escape.
"I never did anything to any of you!" and the words were breathless and a little panicky but mostly indignant. "You hurt me at the grocery store and at school! I beat you in the exhibition because my robot was better! If anybody's worthless, it isn't me!"
"Oh, you're dead," Jeremy said, low and angry. He balled his big hands into fists.
Peter looked right into his face. He didn't have a good comeback ready, but he wasn't going to look away. Not now.
If he wanted to be a hero like Mister Stark, like the Avengers, then he had to be brave. Mister Stark had promised to protect him, but Peter had promised to look out for Mister Stark, too. Uncle Ben had said Peter was strong.
Even if Peter couldn't fight back, that didn't mean he couldn't stand up until the end.
Peter was so busy staring at Jeremy, waiting for the punches, he didn't see the form appear in his peripheral vision.
"Hey!" came a gruff voice. "You make one move towards the kid and you're finding out what a taser feels like!"
Jeremy, Johnny, and Dutch all turned. Peter looked past them to see a tall man wearing a dark suit and a furious scowl.
"Mister...Hogan?" he coughed, his lungs remembering that they were very angry.
"You okay, kid?" Happy Hogan stood on the sidewalk that led back to the parking lot, taser ready in one hand and cell phone in the other. He'd always struck Peter as being kind of cold and aloof, but not particularly scary even if he was supposed to be Tony Stark's driver and bodyguard.
Now he looked scary.
Peter coughed again and put both hands on his chest, grateful for the fence holding him up.
"Jeremy and Johnny Lawrence, and Donald 'Dutch' O'Dell," Mister Hogan said. "Yeah, I know who you are. I've got every word you just said and every hand you laid on the kid all on video. You all take two big steps back away from Peter or you're going to be sorry."
Peter knew what they were going to do before they did it. The three kids bolted in the other direction, running along the fence towards where it hit the edge of the property and another fence.
"Stop! Get back here!" Mister Hogan shouted after them.
The three kids climbed the fence and disappeared.
"Crap." Mister Hogan pocketed the taser and crossed the grass to Peter. "Kid, can you breathe?"
Peter dug in his pocket for his inhaler. His hands shook, but he had practice working without breathing and got it into his mouth. A couple of puffs later, he felt the shakiness that was the welcome sign of the medicine working in his body. Mister Hogan didn't touch him, but stood protectively over him.
Peter noticed that Mister Hogan was wearing an earpiece like a secret agent.
"What...what are you doing here, Mister Hogan?" Peter asked. And coughed, his lungs burning.
"Don't talk, kid," Mister Hogan said. "You sound awful."
Peter frowned at him. He knew that — the inhaler changed his voice a little when he used it, and breathlessness didn't help — but that wasn't what he cared about.
"Tony asked me to keep an eye out since he's in DC today," he said finally. "JARVIS let me know you were in trouble. Your aunt should have gotten the call, too."
"Mister Parker," and that was JARVIS's voice coming from Peter's watch, "I suggest you reapply the inhaler one more time. I believe you are still suffering from acute respiratory distress. I will count out breaths for you if you find it helpful."
Peter nodded. He took two more puffs and forced himself to breathe at the rhythm JARVIS counted. It was the same in for four, hold for three, out for four, hold for three that Aunt May and Mister Stark both used with him. Mister Hogan kept watching over him, but didn't do any more than that.
"Your biometric readings are stabilizing," JARVIS said after several minutes working through the rhythm. "I believe now would be the appropriate time to move indoors to a location where you can rest. I suggest either the workshop or Sir's apartment. The flights of stairs to your own apartment may exacerbate your breathing again."
"Is Aunt May coming?" Peter wanted to know. Just as quickly, he shook his head. "She doesn't have to. I'm okay."
"Missus Parker's instructions are explicit that, in the case of any risk to your well-being, either she, Sir, or Miss Potts must be with you. Sir will not return from Washington for another hour and fifty minutes. If you agree to relocate to the Tower, Miss Potts is prepared to reschedule her evening to spend with you."
"No, I don't want that." Peter looked up at Mister Hogan and then down at his watch. "I'm okay. Mister Hogan is here, and you're here, JARVIS. I don't want Miss Pepper or Aunt May to have to give up work for me."
"I'm afraid my protocols are clear, Mister Parker."
"Can I help?"
Peter and Mister Hogan both looked around to see Clint Barton leaning on the building.
"Mister Barton?" Peter blinked. "Why are you in Queens?"
"I was in the area when JARVIS sent out the alert. Cap's stuck dealing with politics in DC with Stark, so I was scoping out a couple possible apartments for him not far from here." He winked. "They all stink. Waste of time until I heard there was some action."
Peter was getting a little more used to seeing the Avengers in their civilian clothing and without weaponry, but he also knew that none of them were ever really unarmed. Just because Mister Barton was carrying a backpack instead of his bow and arrow didn't mean he didn't have the bow and arrow inside it, after all. Still, he looked weird in a ballcap and jeans. At least Mister Stark looked normal when he was dressed for Queens.
"Sir and Missus Parker have agreed that the two of you and myself may suffice as guardians for Mister Parker until Sir returns," JARVIS said. "However, Mister Parker, you must call your aunt and assure her of your state first."
"Nope. First, we go invade Stark's apartment," Mister Barton said. "Then you call May and we'll make some lemonade or something."
"You better not be using this as an excuse to rifle through Tony's place," Mister Hogan warned.
The smile Mister Barton gave told Peter that he planned on doing exactly that.
And that was how Peter ended up spending an evening playing Mario Kart and beating both adults soundly in Mister Stark's apartment until he got home. They launched a round-robin tournament which Mister Stark won only because he got JARVIS to help him cheat. But Peter managed to beat him when JARVIS withheld aid during their rematch.
Of course he also got fussed over, his bruises iced, and he didn't miss the absolutely lethal glares of fury that the three men exchanged when they thought he wasn't looking. But Peter wasn't worried. If anything, he was just a tiny bit proud of himself.
He hadn't fought back really, hadn't 'won' anything, but he had managed to stand up when he was alone and scared. He had found his voice to shout back at those being cruel. He had been ready for the worst and it didn't paralyze him.
It wasn't much, but maybe it was the start of figuring out how to be brave like a hero after all.
-==OOO==-
Tony's summer was full.
Besides reviving the Avengers initiative in full and figuring out how to get authorization for the team to wander the planet burning Hydra out of their holes, besides equipping the team for all manner of combat, besides preparing to step back into the shoes of Tony Stark at least a little bit, there was everything else.
Like, first and foremost, taking apart those punks who went after Peter yet again.
However, this time, the process was simplified by the fact that they had done all of it within JARVIS's camera range. Cameras Tony owned as part of the building and had the absolute legal right to use. Cameras complete with sound.
Over the course of about two days, Tony learned all about where the NYC school board left off and actual law enforcement began. Really, he didn't need to do that much after all. With May's complete and somewhat bloodthirsty consent, he gave all the information to a lawyer and let them go to town. Restraining orders were issued, fines levied, the one kid's ride to university got scrapped (that was less a legal move and more Tony throwing his weight around by calling the SUNY Albany admissions department himself), and the high school the other two were attending put both kids on probation and a mandatory disciplinary program.
He may also have asked Natasha to pose as the scariest lawyer in the state to speak to both families without the kids present — since they already knew her as Natalie Rushman — and put the genuine fear of god into them. Natasha didn't need to use Tony's name as a hammer when she spoke for a fleet of lawyers and video with audio of those awful kids threatening Peter while beating him up. She didn't quite make the parents cry, but that was about where she drew the line.
She also planted a few bugs on the kids that JARVIS could monitor — if any of the kids ever got within five blocks of Peter, Tony, the lawyers, Happy, May, and whichever Avenger was closest would get an alert. It was the lawyers who were the most ruthless about it. The first time one of the kids broke the distance requirement on the restraining orders, all they had to do was make threatening noises about juvenile detention and permanent records and soon enough the kids didn't even go out anymore.
The Lawrence family moved away a month later, and the O'Dell family ended up sending that kid to some kind of correctional academy before August was over anyway. Peter was finally safe.
Was it overkill? Maybe.
Was he Tony goddamn Stark and he would absolutely overkill anything that threatened his kid? Definitely.
But he had other projects, too. Like Veronica, the Hulk-buster armor Bruce insisted Tony build to have available before he would ever agree to let the Hulk join the Avengers on missions. He borrowed the idea of launching a suit into space in the design, deciding that rather than carrying it with them wherever they went, he would just have it on standby attached to a satellite so he could call it if he needed it.
It was soothing, almost, to go back to his mission-oriented days. There was gear to develop for the Avengers, suits to perfect — he had a whole idea to institute an Iron Legion of empty suits like he'd used against Killian so that they could have backup on missions without endangering a bunch of SHIELD agents — tech to build up for SI, and the slow reintegration of himself into life inside the company. Appearing before the public could wait until he had no choice, but now he got used to walking the halls of the Tower again, got people familiar with his presence again.
He also trimmed his beard again slightly. Not enough to prevent it from working as Mario Carbonell's Queens disguise in its uncombed state, but enough to quit itching in a suit.
He also checked in on Harley Keener.
Harley had been so different from Peter when they met, and now, a year and a half later, he was even more different. JARVIS showed that Harley's grades were improving, and his most recent internet searches had to do with tips to get into college. When Tony first saw the search for "how to get accepted for an engineering degree" he just about grinned his jaw off.
Of course, Harley's tuition was paid for wherever he wanted to go and had been since he'd let Tony use his garage. But now Tony knew the kid wanted something specific.
However, when he called him to chat, he found out that Harley was as prickly as ever.
"Look, Tony, I know you could make a phone call and get me a full ride wherever, but that's cheating."
"It's not cheating," Tony protested, smiling. "It's using your connections. You know, because we're connected."
"Yeah, well, I was being stupid. I'm not letting you do it for me."
"Oh?"
"Yeah. I'm going to get there all by myself and get my degree and then walk into your company and make you hire me. I'm going to be so good I won't give you a choice."
Tony didn't laugh at that earnest Tennessee accent or the speech behind it. He leaned forward.
"Challenge accepted, Harley. See you when you get here."
But he sent the kid a phone anyway — with an emergency linkup to JARVIS — and texted him sometimes just to chat. Harley wasn't Tony's kid, not the way Peter was, but he was something and that something mattered.
And, someday, when they were both ready, maybe, Tony thought Peter and Harley might actually make a brilliant combination. They were both highly intelligent, but in different ways. Peter was emotionally intelligent, too, whereas Harley had more toughness and street smarts. If he realized that Harley was exactly the kind of kid who might grow up into someone else who could watch over Peter while also keeping up with him (and being changed forever just as Peter had changed Tony), well, at least he was thinking ahead.
The Fourth of July came and Tony celebrated it by taking the Parkers and the Avengers out on a boat into the river to watch the fireworks from the best spot in New York Harbor. But he also made time to cook hot dogs over a fire in the apartment parking lot with Peter — and this time they had an actual set of skewers and not cleaned off tools to use, which didn't help the eventual outcome any, but it was progress.
And Tony could not believe that it had been a year that Peter and May Parker had been on his radar. Twelve months, no more, and this family had become a part of his life that was essential on the order of breathing.
He might have to accept that May would never move into the Tower even though he regularly repeated the offer and reminded her that it would cost her nothing and they could live in comfort forever without having to think about the seven stories of walking or grocery bills or noisy neighbors (except for the Avengers). Therefore, Tony would simply have to assume then that the rest of his days would be split between wherever Pepper was and wherever the Parkers remained. Because he wasn't going back to life without every-other-day time with Peter, and he also kind of had to see this Avengers thing through for a while.
So, because he was selfish and fine with it, he would keep both and fight anyone who tried to tell him otherwise.
Pepper, confusingly, thought this was adorable and actively encouraged it. On the other hand, Pepper and May started making plans every Saturday they could get away while Tony and Peter were in the lab (either under the workshop or in the Tower) and did...something. Tony honestly didn't want to know what. But they both enjoyed it, even if they were proving to be pretty scary friends together.
Add Romanoff and Hill to that mix and Tony was pretty sure the four of them could take over the world.
(He was fine with that. They'd run it better and he could finally get some rest and just build things.)
But, if he couldn't have Peter in the Tower all the time when Tony couldn't be in Queens, then he would find other ways to keep the kid close. He sent him texts more and more frequently now that there was no school to stand in the way. Even — and especially — when he knew Peter was in the apartment alone, he would just poke the kid for an update on how far he'd gotten through his most recent book, or what they should do for dinner on Thursday, or if he had any ideas about whatever project they were sharing.
Tony had not yet pulled Peter into any building for the Avengers, but that was literally a matter of time. Peter's birthday was in the beginning of August, after all.
And, whenever possible, they made each other laugh.
Tony learned that Peter had gotten JARVIS wrapped around his little finger; he'd known that since his own birthday when J went behind his back to help the kid make the cufflinks, but now it was far more obvious. Because that was the only explanation for the weird things he found in his Queens apartment, workshop, and lab after he'd been absent for a few days.
The "weird things from Peter" list included everything from binary patterns spelled out in nails and bolts, science puns on bits of tape stuck everywhere, and tiny Rube-Goldberg contraptions set up in unexpected ways. Tony's favorite was the marble positioned to roll off the counter into a tube that set off a tiny explosion of Iron Man-colored confetti in his kitchen.
Tony never failed to respond, though he did it differently.
First and foremost, he ensured that JARVIS had complete and total control over Peter's phone. Then he messed with it.
Contacts in Peter's phone would spontaneously change names. Never to something he couldn't understand or use in an emergency, but rarely to what they should be. And nothing Peter did could undo the changes until Tony felt like it.
So Steve Rogers spent three weeks in Peter's phone named "Star Spangled Butt" and Rhodey was "Sugarplum Airman." When they found out about it, the Avengers retaliated by stealing Tony's phone (they involved Pepper; that was deeply unfair) and changing names, too, but he just changed them right back. And then used JARVIS to rename himself in everyone's phone "Lord and Master Iron God" just to teach them a lesson.
Tony didn't even know Fury's face could move like that when he saw it.
But Tony didn't just stop at a casual prank exchange — it had not escalated to a proper prank war yet and hopefully wouldn't because he already knew there would be casualties and he might be one of them — with Peter. After all, while Peter used JARVIS to help him get around, he mostly left things for Tony to make him smile. It was a language of tiny, found or invented gifts, usually scrounged from whatever Peter saw lying around, and it deserved to be answered in kind.
So Tony (with May's complete knowledge; no breaking into her apartment allowed) left things in return. He found some retro tech like an original Nintendo and an Apple 2 computer and wrote out instructions so Peter could work on building them up himself. He left gummy worms in the shape of words in binary or Italian for Peter on his desk. He snuck a pair of Iron Man slippers into Peter's room at the Tower so they could parade around in themed slippers together. He made sure Peter had a full box of safety gear at both the Queens lab and the Tower all properly sized, monogrammed, and Iron Man themed built up one piece at a time.
And, when he was feeling particularly clever, he sent Peter riddles.
Not the sort solved by non-lateral reasoning or wordplay. He sent Peter chemistry riddles. Fill-in-the-missing-protein or figure out how to change a molecule from one to another in the simplest manner possible. Sometimes he shook it up and added coding or mechanical ones, too. He even got a few from Bruce when he wanted a change of pace.
And Peter never failed to get them right.
If Tony had a significant problem (besides the bullies, but that was less 'problem' and more 'trash fire that needed to burn') throughout June and July, it was the question of what to do for Peter's thirteenth birthday in August. Even by the last week of July, he had a hundred ideas, and none that he really wanted to enact.
"You're so much easier," he told Pepper that night. "You're happy with a lake house and shoes."
Pepper laughed at him. "I'm also perfectly able to tell you what I want. Have you asked Peter?"
"Yes. He says he doesn't care." Tony scowled. "He can have literally anything in the world and possibly something on Asgard since Thor's around. How can he not care?"
"Because," Pepper said, "he's too much like you."
That brought him up short. "He's what?"
"Tony, for your birthday, what did you care about the most? The thing Peter gave you, or the moment?"
"Oh."
Pepper smiled and kissed him. "Right. So work on that instead."
So Tony thought about what might mean the most to Peter, not what gifts he could buy. What they could share that would tell Peter the things that Tony had trouble putting into words. The things he wanted for Peter, the things he hoped.
And the next day, he called May. "I need your permission."