Hey everyone! I'm so sorry this chapter has been so long coming. I had my move in at college and classes starting to deal with, and then this chapter just did not want to be written. I still don't think this turned out as well as it could have, but it's written! (Minor sidenote, I could seriously use a beta if anyone is interested in that type of thing. Let me know in a comment or a PM if you would be interested in taking on this or one of my other stories in that capacity!)
Not much happening big plot-wise, but this was necessary for moving it forward. Anyway, I won't talk for too long, since I already made you all wait almost a month for this, so for now I'll just say I love you all 3000 and I really hope you enjoy! 3
The next morning, Peter groaned as the sunlight through the glass windows roused him.
It was a product of his heightened senses; not just a thing where any noise that wouldn't normally wake someone up was loud enough to do so for him, but lights were brighter, darkness was darker, his eye sight was clearer, and a million other little things affected him differently than everyone else. So even though the sun was barely beginning to rise, streaming dim, beautifully colored light through the window, it was enough to have him awake.
He pushed himself up and rubbed his eyes, yawning hugely. He glanced around. Mr. Stark and Miss Potts both were still asleep on opposite ends of the couch across from him. "Jarvis?" Peter asked in a half-whisper.
"Yes, Mr. Parker?" the AI answered immediately.
Peter glanced around. The overhead lights were out in their little hub area, but they'd been turned out to help keep the temperature down, and he could swear he heard the telltale hum of appliances around the house. "Is… is the power back on?"
"Electricity and most other functions have been restored to the city. Everything should be up and running again," Jarvis confirmed. "Power and communications went back online at 4:27 this morning."
"Okay. Thanks." He ran a hand through his hair, wondering what he should do. If everything was back on, he didn't have to stay here. Neither did they, actually, but while he was sure he could carry both of them to their beds, he thought it was a better idea not to. He didn't think Mr. Stark would take too kindly to that.
He got up and sighed, folding up all his blankets and putting them away before heading back to his quarters. He needed to shower and change. He had no idea what this day would bring - with everything that had happened yesterday, it was impossible to even guess. But he knew he really needed a shower.
So that's what he did. He exited their little hub area quietly after cleaning up as much as he could, going to his quarters and showering. Then he threw on old jeans and one of his punny math shirts and went back out.
When he came back out, the two adults were both still sleeping. After a quick mental debate, he went to the kitchen to make something for breakfast. He was no expert in cooking, but he could cook well enough to make them all something.
He set to work making pancakes and was stacking a plate high with them when Mr. Stark woke up. He heard the change in the older man's breath as he shifted from sleep to awareness, and the sound of his footsteps long before he actually neared him. He didn't even look up as Stark stepped up beside him, starting the coffee pot and turning to look at Peter with bleary eyes. "Cooking, Mr. Parker? I wasn't aware chef was on your list of skills."
"It's not exactly, but my aunt is a horrible cook, so I've had to learn at least the basics to survive," he explained, flipping a pancake. He was still nervous around the elder man, but he felt a lot better about talking to him with his big secret now in the open.
Stark nodded sagely, as if this made sense, watching the coffee pot perk and letting Peter make a few more pancakes in silence before he seemed to notice the size of the stack that he was still working on. "That's… a lot of pancakes."
Peter knew he didn't mean it offensively, but he still blushed slightly. "Yeah. I told you I eat a lot. And I wanted to make sure you and Miss Potts could eat too."
Stark blinked. "Kid, you didn't have to cook for us-"
"It's not like you won't both cook for me at some point," Peter countered, shrugging. "And what's a few extra pancakes when I was making so many anyway?"
They looked at each other for a minute, then Mr. Stark shrugged. "If you say so." He grabbed a few pancakes off the top and threw them on two plates, heading over to the fridge and opening it. "You like anything on your pancakes?"
"Whatever you have is fine. I'm not picky. Just plain syrup is enough for me." He shrugged, throwing two more pancakes onto his stack and then turning off the stove. He knew what Mr. Stark had said, sure, but twenty pancakes was more than enough for anyone, even if he was sure he could eat more.
As if sensing his thoughts, Stark's head popped out from behind the fridge at the sound of him turning off the burner. He eyed the stack of pancakes. "Is that going to be enough for you?"
"It'll be plenty. Worry about your toppings," Peter told him, unable to keep a slight smile from curling up his lips.
Stark narrowed his eyes at him, but apparently decided to drop the topic despite his apparent disbelief. "So I was thinking," he started suddenly, turning away to grab the toppings out of the fridge and setting some on the counter. "We should go down to my workshop today, get started on that new suit, or at least tossing some ideas out for it. I'd like to get a conceptual design going as soon as possible."
"Really?" Peter blurted.
"Well yeah. Why do you sound so surprised? I wouldn't have said it if I wasn't serious." Stark scoffed from behind him.
Logically, Peter knew that, but still. Maybe he just hadn't expected him to want to get to work on it so soon. Especially with what happened yesterday, he would have assumed that he had more pressing matters to deal with. He expected it to be a side thought, not a priority. "I don't know," he mumbled, taking the plate of pancakes and grabbing another empty one before sliding onto a seat at the counter.
"That's because it doesn't make any sense," Stark supplied, then turned to him and held up two containers. "Strawberries or blueberries?"
Peter considered it for a minute. "Blueberries."
Stark rolled his eyes. "Of course. You would be with Potts." He grabbed a handful of the berries for Pepper's plate and then slid the bowl over to Peter. He caught it, sprinkling the berries over the two plates of pancakes he had, then grabbed the syrup and poured it over both plates.
"For the last time, I'm allergic to them, Tony." Miss Potts had appeared on the opposite side of the counter, her hair messy and equally as bleary-eyed as Mr. Stark had been when he first appeared. "Can you be bothered to remember anything that's not about you?"
"I remembered you don't eat them," Mr. Stark countered, pushing a plate across the table at her. "That's something. And I was going to bring it to you, if that counts for anything."
"It does," she admitted, almost begrudgingly. She picked up the plate and gave him a half-smile. "Thank you, Mr. Stark."
"Don't thank me. Kid made them." Stark popped a piece of a cut-up strawberry into his mouth and turned to put the bowls of fruit back in the fridge.
Pepper turned to Peter, flashing him a warm smile. "Well then thank you, Peter. I didn't know you could cook."
"I can't, much. Easy stuff. But between May being a terrible cook and me needing to eat more than she realizes, I've picked up a few things." Peter shrugged, starting to cut up his pancakes.
Tony slid into a seat and narrowed his eyes at the kid again, filing that bit of information away for later. He knew he'd made sure last night that the kid was going to eat plenty while he was here, and in retrospect, he should have realized from the implications of the conversation that he wasn't getting anywhere near full at home, but now the realization hit him full force. He made a mental note to tell Pepper they were going to be picking up the Parkers' grocery tab from now on, but didn't say so aloud, knowing it would only be met with protests from Peter.
There was a nudge against his ribs, and he glanced over at Pepper to see her giving him a look that indicated his thoughts were showing on his face again. He smoothed it out promptly, sighing a little as he looked at her. For the first time he could recall in a while, even though she'd busted him drifted off in thoughts, she looked like she might actually be thinking about the same thing. It was kind of nice not to see her looking completely exasperated or pissed at him for once.
Tony shook the thoughts away and refocused, taking a bite of his pancakes. They were actually excellent. Not that he was entirely surprised - everything the kid had tried to do so far he'd been good at, with the exception of lying. What he was surprised at was looking up again to see that the kid had already devoured half of his first plate of them before Tony had even taken a bite. Holy shit. He definitely wasn't lying about the eating thing.
"You don't have to inhale them, you know. They're not going anywhere."
Peter looked up when he spoke, looking confused for a half second before realization dawned and he blushed a deep pink. "Oh, uh… yeah. I know."
Pepper kicked him under the table, smiling a bit at Peter. "He's just picking on you, Peter. Don't worry about it. Eat as fast and as much as you want."
Peter just nodded, turning back to his pancakes but still blushing faintly. Pepper shot Tony a look before returning to her own food.
They ate the rest of the meal in silence. Peter, amazingly, was the first to finish, despite having ten times the amount of pancakes as either of them. Tony didn't even realize it until he looked up and noticed the kid had gotten up and was cleaning up his dishes.
"You don't have to do that," Pepper said, apparently noticing the same thing at the same time he did.
Peter shrugged. "I don't mind."
Tony made an exasperated noise, unable to help himself. "Kid. I do. I'm a billionaire. We have staff to do that kind of stuff. And a mechanical dishwasher." He popped his late bit of pancakes in his mouth.
Peter looked down and seemed to notice the dishwasher integrated with the cabinets he was standing in front of for the first time. "Oh."
"Yeah. Oh." Tony got up and put his plate in the sink, pausing long enough to refill his cup of coffee before grabbing the kid's arm and pulling him away from the sink. "Come on kid. Let's get some work done." He glanced over at Pepper, addressing her for the last part. "If you need us, we'll be in the lab." He practically dragged Peter into the elevator.
Peter just followed him silently. As soon as the elevator doors closed in front of them, Mr. Stark released his arm and let out an audible sigh. Peter glanced over at him, but the elder man had his eyes closed, rubbing his temple with his now free hand. He'd noticed some tension between him and Miss Potts this morning, sure, and had sensed lots of silent communication going on between them, but it hadn't seemed like it was bad, so he hadn't expected Stark to look so… stressed.
In truth, Tony was stressed. For a multitude of reasons, including the kid, but also about the whole Malware situation, the unpredictability of the whole thing, and now… Pepper. It had just struck him that the whole scenario this morning had been oddly domestic. Tony Stark had never done domestic. And yet, he didn't mind it. It was actually kind of nice. Then the thought had also come to him, unbidden, that he didn't mind it, could get used to it. As long as it was with Peter and Pepper.
And that thought was ridiculous and dangerous, because frankly, he couldn't keep either of them. Peter would be going home at the end of the summer, and even though he wasn't intending to just throw the kid loose, he couldn't afford to get too attached. For the kid's sake as well as his own. And then there was Pepper, and… no. Just no. He couldn't go down that path. Again, for both their sakes. She was one of the few people in the world he trusted implicitly, one of the few people in his life he valued and thought he might actually not be able to live without, and if he screwed that up…
No. He couldn't even get into that. It wasn't worth the risk. Besides, he'd put her through way too much shit in the years they'd known each other. He was honestly surprised she still tolerated him at all. Trying to push things that far… now that would be pushing it.
The elevator stopped, and the doors slid open smoothly in front of them. Tony stepped out immediately, stalking over to his desk and pulling up a holographic screen. He started sifting through files, closing out things he wasn't intending to work on today or that he didn't want the kid to see - like the files on him and his alter ego that were still up, never having been closed before the power outing and thus being immediately rebooted when he'd opened they system again.
Speaking of the kid… Tony glanced up and realized that he hadn't moved but maybe a foot outside the elevator, looking around with a look of shock and awe, his mouth slightly open even as he grinned a little. Tony couldn't help but smile himself at the sight. It was so rare for anyone to fully appreciate his workshop, and he often forgot himself how amazing it was sometimes.
"You coming in, Pete?" He sounded slightly teasing even to his own ears, and he couldn't wipe the slight grin off his face even as he wondered where the hell he pulled the nickname from.
Peter looked equally as startled, but he said nothing, blushing as he stepped fully into the workshop. "This place is… just…" He stopped, clearly not able to think of any words that would do his interpretation justice. "Amazing," he finally settled on.
Tony chuckled. "I should hope so, as much as it costs. Now get in here and help me work on this suit."
Peter nodded, approaching the workbench he was standing in front of slowly. "Okay, but... I don't really know what I could do."
"It's your suit, kid. Surely you have ideas of things you wished it had in the past. I've got a basic diagram of the look of it-" Jarvis helpfully pulled up the markup of the suit that he'd started tossing together after a few sessions of mulling over the file on the vigilante as he spoke, "-but really, I need some input."
Peter stood stock still a few feet away, staring at the life-sized hologram of the suit he'd designed. His eyes were as round as the pancakes he'd scarfed down a few minutes before. "Uh, okay… well, what do you have?"
Tony grinned, a little wildly, and didn't waste anymore time before launching into an explanation of everything he'd already done.
They were there for hours after that. Talking, working, throwing out wild measurements and ideas and even going so far as to have Jarvis scan Peter again for measurements. Neither of them had any idea of how much time had passed until Rhodey called.
Tony was sitting hunched over a tablet, furiously imputing calculations and instructions into the simulation for Jarvis to translate into the suit design when his phone rang.
He was so far into what he was doing that he didn't even hear it at first. It wasn't until Peter tapped him on the shoulder and pulled him back to reality that he realized what the sound was and exactly what it meant.
"Hm? Oh." He rolled his eyes when he saw who it was, but reluctantly sat back and told Jarvis to answer it. "What is it, platypus? I'm kind of busy here."
"Tony, we need to talk about last night." Rhodey's voice came over the speakers, and Peter jumped a little, looking like he wasn't sure what to do. Tony waved him off, silently telling him he could stay. There was no point in sending him out when he was going to have to debrief him anyway.
"What's there to talk about? You went home before things got too exciting, just like in college." Tony glanced back at the tablet, pressing his lips together against the smirk that threatened to curl up his lips at the quiet giggle he heard from across the room.
"Tony, this is serious. You know what I mean. If Malware can do that, then-" He stopped, apparently not missing the sound either. "Who was that?"
Suddenly he wasn't smirking either. Now that was a question he wasn't prepared to answer fully. "My intern. You know, the one Pepper told you all about? He's fine. Anyway, yes, the situation is bad, I'm working on it. What more do you want me to say?"
"Um, something I can give the higher-ups? You know how much it took for them to let me debrief you on this? I need something to give them, Tony."
"What happened to not being able to pass information over the phone because it wasn't secure enough?" Tony asked distractedly, entering everything he'd just coded into Jarvis to be translated into the projection.
Rhodey sighed, and Tony could picture him rubbing his temples as if he were giving him a headache, which wasn't all that unlikely. "Just… tell me you have a plan. Something, anything, even if it's a lie, so I can tell them something and get them off my back."
"I have a plan," Tony said. His eyes drifted to Peter, who had stepped away and was making a fair attempt at not blatantly eavesdropping on their conversation by busying himself with the list Tony had ordered him to make, and he amended, "Well, I'm working on one, at least."
"Fine. I'll take that. But you know I'm going to need more than that, and soon, Tony. Before this gets anymore out of hand."
"Well, then come get it, platypus. You know where to find me."
Rhodey was silent for a moment on the other line. "We'll see," he said at last. "I'll try to get over there sometime this week. But you better actually have something for me then, or we're both going to be in trouble."
"Duly noted," Tony said dryly. He looked back over at Peter, who was looking at him, openly listening now. He met his eyes and offered him a wry smile. "I'll have something," he promised him. "One way or another, I'll have something."
"You better." He hung up.
It was silent for a long moment. Tony held his eye contact with Peter, letting out a small sigh as he tried to figure out how best to have this conversation. The biggest problem was the fact he didn't even want to bring the kid into it, and he knew as soon as he so much as opened it as a possibility, Peter would jump on it. And being the overexcited teen that he was, he would throw himself into it, and Tony was terrified from somewhere so deep inside he rarely touched on it that he would get hurt.
"I'm something," Peter said, so quietly he almost didn't hear it. "Right?"
Tony looked back at him and hissed a breath through his teeth. "Only if you want to be. I could use you on this, kid, I'm not going to lie. But your help is conditional."
"You get to have conditions for my help?" Peter repeated, frowning. "Isn't that kind of backwards?"
"Not when I'm in charge of you and I'm in charge of making sure this situation doesn't go to hell," Tony countered. "Look, kid, I'm not stupid. If I tell you you can't help, you're going to do it anyway. The only difference is that I won't know when you're going to throw yourself into some crazy dangerous situation, and if I don't know, chances are I won't be in a very good position to help you. So yes, I've got conditions, and so help me, you'll follow them, or I swear I'll-"
"You'll what?" Peter tilted his head at him, looking for all the world like a curious puppy.
Tony faltered. "I don't know yet. But whatever it is, if you disobey me or do something stupid, you're not going to like the consequences."
Peter grinned at him, clearly amused by his lack of follow through and not looking near as frightened by the whole situation as he really should. "Deal."
He could knock some sense into him later, he decided. And they had plenty of time to discuss these conditions. "Alright," he said, waving his hands at the hologram and standing up. "Then first things first. You can't be of any help until we get this suit done, so… let's get back to work."