Hello friends! I know, I know. Although it's not an excuse, so many things have happened to me since I last posted. Both good and bad things, just life, you know. Anyway, here's a new chapter for you and that's all that matters now, right?

When Peter wakes up, he's in a bed, a blanket thrown atop of him. It feels so good, so soft, so warm. He's determined to keep his eyes shut and enjoy this softness a little bit longer, but his mind tells him something is not right.

There's a dull pain in his leg and that suddenly reminds him of last night's events. Fire, gang battle, cut, crawling into his room, passing out on the floor. Probably in this order.

He groans, peers an eye open and moves the blanket to check his wound. It's been cleaned and dressed and undoubtedly stitched, but he can't see that under the bandage. And there's something else. He's not in his suit anymore but in his pajamas. He blinks. It can only mean one thing-

"Morning, Peter," a familiar voice greets him and he instantly turns to see Mr. Stark leaning causally to the doorframe, his signature coffee mug in his hand.

And there goes Peter's plan to keep his injury a secret from the man. To just rest a little and take care of the wound later. Yeah, sure.

The boy remains silent; he can't speak just yet, no, because he has given his mind only one job: to figure out how mad Mr. Stark is at him. Will he kick him out now? Or will he let him recover first? Did he call CPS already?

But surprisingly, there's not a hint of anger on Mr. Stark's face. No. Just sadness and… disappointment. And maybe that's worse. Peter swallows hard and tries to fight the urge to pull the blanket over his face and hide under it forever.

"Mr. Stark, I can explain-" he starts, but the man waves him off.

"No need, kid. Karen already told me. Fire and gangs, right? You had a busy night."

"It was nothing I couldn't handle. You don't have to worry about me," Peter says quietly, sitting up.

"Well, I do worry about you, Peter, all the time," Mr. Stark shrugs. "And that's not gonna change, I'm sorry. No, scratch that, I'm not sorry, worrying about you is kinda my job. For now. Anyway, I made breakfast. Your favorite, waffles. So if you are up to it, you can come out into the kitchen. Or I can bring it in here."

Peter narrows his eyes. He can't get over those two short words in the middle of the man's rant: for now. What exactly does Mr. Stark mean?

Then realization sets in.

He was right. His stunt last night? That was the last drop. Him getting in trouble and coming home injured. Mr. Stark is fed up with him. Fed up with his mess. And he wants to get rid of him.

It's not like Peter could blame him. He has always known he's trouble. He has always known this would happen. It was just a matter of time. And now that time has come.

Those waffles are his last meal here. It's actually nice of Mr. Stark making his favorite as a farewell gift. Well, Mr. Stark has always been nice to him. It's not his fault that it has come to this. It's not his fault that he can't handle Peter's mess anymore. It's entirely Peter's fault.

The least he can do is to face the music now. He can't hide in his room anymore. Which might not be his room anyway. It's just a guest room again. And Peter's just a guest here. A guest that will leave soon.

He will have his last breakfast with Mr. Stark, pack his stuff and leave. Probably back to the streets. Hopefully, his warehouse is still available, empty. Because there's no way that he's going into a foster home!

The boy sighs defeated and tries to stand. He hisses when pain explodes in his leg and he stumbles, but Mr. Stark is suddenly there, catching him, steadying him and he holds on to his arm gratefully. He can feel hot tears in his eyes. Gosh, he's gonna miss this so much! Miss Mr. Stark so much! Because he's always there to catch him, to help him.

When he moved in and told Mr. Stark to stop hovering, stop being so nice to him, this was exactly what he was afraid of. That the nicer the man is, the harder it will be to leave. And he was right. Because it's gonna be so damn hard to leave!

But. He can do this. He has to do this. And he won't cry. He will save his tears for later. He will have plenty of time to cry in the warehouse. Just like old times, right?

But now. Now he's going to have breakfast with Mr. Stark one last time.

"Easy, easy there, kid," the man's concerned voice interrupts his train of thoughts. "If the stitches pop, we'll have to go down to the med bay, because I'm not gonna do that all over again," he claims pointing at Peter's wound. "One time last night was enough."

Peter gives Mr. Stark a quizzical look and he understands the unsaid question. "I figured you'd prefer your room to the med bay and that cut was not that bad, so I took care of it myself. But if it's getting worse, we're going down there," he adds sternly.

The boy nods. "Thank you, Mr. Stark."

The man gives him a small smile in return and helps him limp into the kitchen.

The leg still hurts and Peter can see now that his plan to keep the injury a secret would have never worked. Even if he'd had the strength to patch himself up last night, he could have never hidden the pain. He could have never avoided this. Eating his last breakfast at the Tower.

He's shoveling food into his mouth and though the waffles taste amazing as always, he can't enjoy them now. Knowing what's about to happen, he has no appetite at all. He's doing his best to eat as much as he always does. Because he really doesn't want to hurt Mr. Stark's feelings, he doesn't want him to think Peter doesn't appreciate his efforts. Because he does, he really does.

"We need to talk, kid," Mr. Stark announces unexpectedly, sitting across from him and clutching his coffee mug.

Peter's eyes immediately shoot up at him. He swallows a bite and now he's absolutely sure that he won't be able to eat more. He might get sick.

But he has to do this. He has to face the consequences of his actions. He deserves this. So he decides to put a brave face on and gives the man a nod.

Mr. Stark looks uncomfortable. He probably also finds this conversation painful. He doesn't want to do this. But he knows it has to be done.

He runs a hand through his hair and groans. "Oh, Pete. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. You have no idea..."

Then he goes silent and just stares at the table. It looks like he's unable to go on.

The boy decides to make it easier for Mr. Stark. He will say what has to be said. It's the least he can do for the man.

"I need to leave," Peter whispers, lowering his head and accepting his fate.

"I think that's the best, kid, yeah," the man replies, regret dripping from his voice. "It's obviously not working."

Peter nods again. He knows it's not working, knew it never would.

"I promise to help you find a good place, buddy," the man continues. "You deserve the best."

But Peter doesn't believe that's true. Mr. Stark is wrong. He doesn't deserve the best. He had the best, the best parent he could wish for and he screwed up. Big time. He doesn't deserve anything.

"I know it's not gonna be easy, but I'm sure we can figure out something, kid," the man explains.

They remain silent for a few minutes. Peter knows he should get back into his room, grab his stuff and go, the sooner the better. Mr. Stark doesn't have to help him anymore, hell, he couldn't, how could he now? He's on his own again.

But despite this awful conversation, it feels nice to just sit here with the man. He's reluctant to go. He doesn't want to go. He has to, he agrees with Mr. Stark but he doesn't want to. And God, no, those damned tears are here again!

Mr. Stark sighs and leans closer. Peter refuses to look up at him. He doesn't want the man to see those tears in his eyes and he's sure if he looked into Mr. Stark's eyes now, he couldn't stop them from falling.

"Oh, Pete," the man says again and he sounds tired, exhausted. "I knew I would screw up. Barton told me to make sure that you trust me. To make you feel that you can always come to me. And I couldn't do that. I failed you, kid and I'm so sorry. You can't trust me, can you? That's why you ran away, that's why you were trying to fix your suit on your own and that's why you didn't let Friday call me last night, right? I know you're strong, Peter, you're so strong and you can handle anything, but let me tell you something, bud. It's okay to ask for help sometimes. I know it's not easy, it's pretty hard for me, too but you don't have to deal with everything on your own. I hope one day you'll find someone you can trust and let in. I just wish I could have been that someone. I wish you could have trust me, kid."

Peter finally looks up at Mr. Stark; he doesn't care anymore if he sees his tears. He can see a sad smile on the man's face and something like… resignation?

But Mr. Stark is wrong! So wrong! And yes, Peter knows he has to leave but he can't leave like this! He can't let the man believe it's been his fault! Because it's not, he didn't fail, Peter did!

"No, Mr. Stark," he protests vehemently. "I trust you. I trust you the most," he adds quietly.

"You're a good kid, Peter, always so polite," Mr. Stark smiles again.

But Peter gets angry this time. Mr. Stark doesn't understand! He's not polite, he's honest!

He slams a fist on the table, and it's such an unexpected move from the boy, that Mr. Stark staggers back. He stares at Peter in shock, mouth fallen open but unable to speak.

"No, Mr. Stark!" the boy repeats through gritted teeth. "You don't understand! I do trust you! And you have always been so kind to me. But what do I do in return? I always screw up! I am so dumb and always do something stupid. Like ruining that awesome suit! You put so much work into it and what did I do? I ruined it! And then you go on a mission to fight some bad guys while me? Jumping into stupid gang battles against fourteen armed men! I… I always screw up, Mr. Stark, I'm trouble, I know. I want you to believe I'm good and you don't have to worry about me, but no matter how hard I try, I always mess up. And when I try to handle things on my own, you always figure it out sooner or later, right?" he laughs nervously. Then he turns sad again. "I guess I just can't hide it from you. That I'm just… too much. I'm making your life complicated and you don't deserve it. So you're right, Mr. Stark, I should leave."

He is about to get up, he grabs the edge of the table to steady himself while slowly launching to his feet. He winces when his injured leg reminds him of last night's events again.

"Whoa, not so fast, kid," Mr. Stark says, holding up a hand.

Peter obeys immediately and sits back. He actually feels relieved because that stupid leg still hurts a lot.

"So you're saying you didn't ask for my help because you felt embarrassed?" Mr. Stark asks leaning closer again, narrowing his eyes at the boy. Peter doesn't answer, he just lowers his head. That seems a good enough response to the man though because he continues. "What did you think I would do, Pete, huh? If I had found about the suit earlier? Or last night, when you got home injured and if you had woken me up to help you? What did you think I would do?"

The boy remains silent, but Mr. Stark seems patient. He is sitting there, watching Peter, waiting for him to speak.

And Peter knows he owes him an explanation. It's not like it would change anything. He's leaving, that's settled. But Mr. Stark was kind enough to take him in, to help him and even now, when he knows about all the mistakes, all the bad decisions Peter has made, he's still patient and nice to him. It painfully reminds the kid how much he has lost. Again.

"I…," he starts, head hanging low. "I was afraid that you'd kick me out," he all but mutters. "If you had realized how much trouble I was, that I ruined everything, you'd have sent me away." Then he raises his head, looks Mr. Stark in the eye, although he can hardly see the man from the hot tears burning in his own eyes. "And I didn't want to go, Mr. Stark. I felt so good here, so happy, I… it was like home. And I knew… I always knew it was just a matter of time… one day I'll make something really, really stupid and you'll… you'll…"

He sniffs and wipes the tears away with the sleeves of his shirt. Then he looks away, unable to look at Mr. Stark anymore.

The man shakes his head in disbelief and hides his face behind his hands. "Oh, Pete. Jesus. I didn't know. I'm the worst. I didn't realize what you were going through. That you were afraid of… Shit. Kid, you're wrong, okay? Now I'm the one saying it. You gotta understand that you're wrong… Hey, look at me, please."

But Peter cannot. It was a dumb idea. Again. Discussing this whole thing. Trying to make Mr. Stark understand. No. It would have been easier just to jump up and leave. He could be in the warehouse by now. He wouldn't mind those stupid tears there but here…

He crosses his arms, shakes his head and refuses to look at Mr. Stark. But he is unable to get up and leave, either.

Mr. Stark takes a deep breath, stands up and walks to Peter. He crouches down in front of the boy and places both of his hands on his knees. He stares at the kid and waits patiently until Peter's red eyes hesitantly meet his.

"Let me tell you this, Pete," the man starts slowly. "I love you, kid. No matter what, you hear me? You can't do anything to make me unlove you. I don't mind if you make a mistake. I don't mind if you do something stupid. You can't do anything too stupid to change that, okay? I love you and I'm going to repeat it again and again until you believe me. And if you're in trouble, you can always come to me. I want you to come to me, okay? And I can guarantee we can always figure out something. We're smart guys, right? Well, mostly… Anyway, if you trust me like you said, let me help you. That's why I'm here, kid. And I'm not going anywhere. And you're not going anywhere either, I'm sorry," he adds with a grin.

Peter tilts his head and swallows back his tears. He's trying to decide if he can believe what he has just heard. Is it true? Is Mr. Stark serious?

The man gives him a warm smile. "Pete, I want what's best for you. I thought you didn't trust me and I was ready to let you go because I thought you could find a better home somewhere else. But if you want to stay, if you want to stay with me, that would make me really happy, bud. Because me taking care of you, kid? That's a long-term thing. That's a forever kind of thing. I mean it. No running away or damaged suit or bleeding leg can change that. So what are you saying, kid? Are you in?"

Peter sniffs again, and then an enormous grin spreads across his face. He jumps into Mr. Stark's arms and the man nearly loses his balance but he steadies himself before they could stumble onto the floor. He hugs the boy tight and chuckles.

"I love you, too, Mr. Stark," he murmurs into the man's shirt. "I love you so much."

So did you like it? :)