Notes: This chapter is inspired by the amazing series Broken Wings on AO3 by the equally amazing Snarkymuch so go check that out!
Peter would always be different. He would always be followed by dirty looks, sneers, and hurtful comments.
People would shy away from him and parents would tell their children "Don't go near his kind, sweetheart, they're evil beings."
He can't count the times that things had been thrown at him, how many times someone had hurt him. When he was younger other kids would trip him as he walked past and throw stones at him.
And all of it was because of his wings. Because he was a raven.
He used to love his wings, was proud of them even, but that steadily changed as the years went by. His parents used to tell him that they were beautiful, used to preen and oil each feather with so much care that his dark wings would shimmer in different shades of blue, purple, and green when the light hit them right.
He used to love his wings... until he didn't.
It was because of his wings, because of him, that his parents died. They were going to a science convention if anyone other than Ben and May asked. Except they weren't, they were flying to a raven gathering being held in a hidden valley somewhere. Richard and Mary had wanted Peter to meet his own wingmates, to experience flying without having to look over his shoulder in case someone saw him.
They never got to see it.
He lost Ben because of his wings too. They'd had an argument because Peter had said something about wishing he had no wings instead of being a raven. Of being a death omen.
He ran off, Ben came after him.
He let the bodega thief go.
His uncle left dead on the tarmac because of it.
Peter never let anyone see his wings again. Not even May.
Peter's shoulders and joints ached with the need to fly. To truly stretch is wings for once, not just as far as he could in the safety of his room when he tried to preen his wings.
His wings hadn't been oiled or preened properly since Ben had done it just days before he died. It was hard to reach all of the feathers across your wings so oftentimes a family member would help in the preening process. It was beneficial to both parties as well because it helped form and cement bonds if you had someone you trust help care for your wings, letting them be seen and touched was incredibly important.
Which is another reason that Peter was struggling so much. He hadn't let May touch his wings, or even touch him much since Ben. Hadn't had a hug since that night either.
He helped May with her wings and would sometimes hold her hand. That was as much as he allowed himself.
He was touch starved and he knew that it had finally started affecting him. But he couldn't do anything about it, wouldn't let his aunt know because he couldn't lose her as well.
He hid it and he hid it well.
Until he didn't.
He walked into the lab at the compound on a Friday after school. He stayed with Mr Stark once a month from Friday until Monday when the man would drop him at school in the morning.
He couldn't quite stop the tremors in his shoulders. It had been a rough day even before he read the message from Ned saying that he was homesick. Peter didn't even have his other friend as MJ had left on Thursday night for a protest she wanted to go to. Flash had narrowed in on the fact and his torments had been on form. Then he made a comment about Peter's parents and Ben dying because he was useless and it was the only way that they could be rid of him.
He walked into the lab, wings and tears both wanting to burst forth. Tony immediately put his tools down and got up, his own deep red, slightly scarred wings sitting against his back. The man pulled him into a hug and wrapped his wings around them when he felt Peter trembling.
Peter hadn't been hugged like this in years. Hadn't felt safe in an embrace in so long.
It was what finally pushed him over the edge.
His tears fell and his trembling increased as he tried to hold his wings in. He was terrified of what his mentor would say if he found out he was a raven. That he was dark.
Tony rubbed a hand in gentle circles between Peter's shoulder blades right above where his wings were hidden. "You can let them out," he said, "It's okay."
The teen sobbed as he shook his head in the man's neck. "I ca- can't! You'll hate m- me!" He cried. He couldn't let Tony see them, couldn't lose someone else because of his wings.
Tony could feel his heart break. "I willneverhate you. Never." He said vehemently, drawing back to look into Peter's eyes before he pulled him back into a hug.
"I already know what you are sweetheart," he whispered into the boy's hair. "I don't care what people say, you are not an omen. You are an amazing person with beautiful wings, kid. I don't want you hurting anymore, I don't want you to hide from who you are."
Peter looked into Tony's eyes as if looking for something. He seemed to have found it because he took a breath before pulling away slightly from the man's embrace, immediately mourning the loss of warmth from his wings.
He stood up and backed away a few steps. He looked at the man again, saw the absolute love, trust, and adoration in his eyes before dropping his head. He took the leap before he lost his courage and let his wings fall open in front of someone for the first time in years.
He heard a soft gasp but kept his head down, afraid to see the fear and disgust on the face of the man he looked up to and admired so much.
There was footsteps and a rustling before he felt his chin being lifted. He met the eyes of his mentor and he only saw love and acceptance.
Tony moved one of his wings to slide gently across the edge of one of Peter's, asking for permission. When the younger's wing twitched up slightly he let his wings slide around to lay across the back of Peter's own like a blanket.
The boy felt a tension that he hadn't realised was even there flow from his shoulders. He lent into his mentor's embrace letting out a quiet whimper.
The man only gave a smile as he pulled him in tighter. "Would you let me preen them?" He asked gently as he brushed a hand over the top of the one dark wing. "You don't have to say yes I just thought you might like to have all of your feathers straight. I know that a lot of them are pinching."
"You would do that?" Peter asked in slight awe. He wished that he could feel comfortable with his wings.
"Of course. I just want you to be okay and comfortable." Tony replied.
Peter didn't know what to think. He was so scared of letting May close to his wings but here he was with his wings out and in a feather hold with Tony Stark of all people.
Maybe this would help him feel comfortable in his feathers and letting May in again.
"Please." He answered softly.
Peter had followed Tony up to the penthouse and into a room he hadn't been in before. It was a big room with glass for the walls and the ceiling, golden light from the sun spilling across the floor was filled with mattresses, pillows, and blankets. On one side of the room was a beautiful preening chair situated so that the mattresses still surrounded it leaving the entire floor with room for pillows and blankets.
Tony pulled him towards the chair, informing him that the glass was one-sided so no one was able to see in.
Peter settled across the chair on his stomach, his wings tucked tightly, but not hidden, against his back as his nervousness grew.
The older hero rested a hand over Peter's curls, "You don't have to do this if you aren't comfortable or ready ya know?" He said gently, "You don't have to feel obligated to let me do this."
Peter nodded with a quiet almost sad look on his face. "I know… I want to. I want to be able to open my wings and trust again. I'm tired of being scared and hurt." He slowly spread his wings, letting them hand over the sides and across the fluffy pillows and blankets spread around.
Tony gave him a proud smile. The fact that Peter trusted him like this was mind-blowing to him. "If this becomes too much or you get uncomfortable just tell me to stop and I will." He said before hovering a hand over the dark feathers spread before him. "I'm going to start with straightening them and pulling the loose feathers. That alright?"
When he received a nod he let his hand gently run over the backs of the wings, feeling for loose feathers before gently pulling them and dropping them in a basket that Peter only noticed now. He felt Peter relax as he got used to the feeling of someone preening his wings again. Tony slowly and carefully straightened feathers, oiled them, and just ran his hand in comforting lines across the length of the dark wings before him.
About an hour after he started he heard Peter's breathing even out as his wings slid into a further relaxed position in his sleep. Tony smiled, so grateful that he had this opportunity to show his kid that he didn't have to be scared of touch and of his wings.
He carried on running his hands over the feathers until he was absolutely sure that there wasn't a feather out of place and that they were oiled all over. He stepped back and took his first proper look at Peter's wings.
He'd thought that they were beautiful before, now they were stunning. The feathers in perfect lines together, shone in the sunlight streaming in the room. The purple, green, and blue shimmer was vivid after being oiled.
Tony felt a tear fall. How could someone so beautiful and amazing be treated so badly? He would never understand it.
He shook his head, pushing the morose thoughts away. He asked FRIDAY to order their usual from Peter's favourite pizza place before he picked up the feather filled basket. He'd go and get rid of the feathers and then the pizzas should arrive.
Tony wondered if Peter would like the chance to fly in his flight/multi-level gym. He could even take him upstate to the secluded fields and forests behind the compound.
FRIDAY informed him of the food's arrival and he went to fetch it. As he walked back towards Peter he told himself to relax. They had plenty of time for Peter to get used to being open with his wings.
He knew that he and May would do anything for the stubborn spider child, they just had to make him comfortable with actually letting them. He promised himself that he would help them wherever he could.
He smiled when he walked into the sunroom and saw Peter still sprawled out in his sleep. He was doing that a lot lately. Smiling. It was nice.