2018

"Well, kid, it's official."

Tony pockets his phone and turns back towards Peter. The teenager sits hunched over a worktable, idly spinning a screw between his fingers. He doesn't look up at Tony's voice.

"Otto Octavius is currently sitting in a cozy little cell on Ryker's Island. Spider-Man has put away yet another villain, and public opinion of New York's web-head has never been better. How ya feelin'?"

Peter pulls his gaze away from the screw to meet Tony's expectant look. He shrugs half-heartedly. "Not great, honestly," he admits.

Tony tilts his head. "What's on your mind?"

Peter smiles briefly when Tony steps closer to clasp a comforting hand onto his shoulder. "I mean, I'm glad he can't hurt anyone now…" He looks back down. "I guess I just feel kind of bad for him. I mean, he wasn't always a bad guy. He's just sick, right?"

Tony's response is slow in coming and said with care. "You can't get hung up on that stuff, Pete. Octavius made his decisions. You offered him every opportunity to do the right thing, and he refused each time."

Peter remains silent, and Tony grasps for the right thing to say.

"Look, I have the footage from your suit to prove it," he tries, "It's pretty obvious that—" Tony is already moving to pull up the recordings as Peter puts out a hand to stop him.

"No." The boy chuckles lightly. "No, you're right." His smile fades. "I just wish I coulda gotten through to him."

Tony places a hand on each of Peter's shoulders, spinning the boy in his stool to face him. "I know you looked up to the man, kid. I respected his work too. But people have to be held accountable for their own actions.

"Maybe, in the end, he lost sight of himself. But he made all the decisions that led to that moment. And you did what you could for him, but you did the right thing, taking him down. You know that, right?"

Peter nods. "Yeah, I know that."

"Good," Tony affirms. Feeling the potential for an awkward silence coming on, he pulls Peter to his feet and gestures towards the door. "Now, you did good, and we are celebrating! I already rented out your favorite ice cream joint—"

"The whole place?!"

Tony slings his arm around Peter's shoulders as they exit the lab.

"—your aunt is on the way there now, along with Ned and your little girlfriend—"

"MJ better not hear you call her that…"

"—and guess what!"

Tony halts suddenly, his hands thrown to the side for dramatic effect.

"What?" Peter indulges him, raising an eyebrow.

"Your favorite superhero is going to be there!"

"Well, obviously," Peter says with an eye roll and a sly grin. He continues walking, leaving Tony behind.

"Why would that be obvious?" Tony asks incredulously, stepping quickly to catch up.

"Well…" Peter draws out the word, "who do you think my favorite hero is?"

Tony gives a long-suffering sigh. "As much as I want to say it's Iron Man, I know for a fact that it's Thor."

Peter's face immediately lights up. "Thor's in town?!" Then he quickly clears his throat and tries to school his expression. "I mean, that— that's cool." He shrugs indifferently. "But he's only my second-favorite hero."

"Oh?" Tony allows himself a somewhat smug grin. "Then who would your first be?"

"Spider-Man, of course," Peter replies without missing a beat. He tries not to laugh in the silence that follows.

"...You think you're clever, don't you?"

Peter can't help the laughter that escapes him, and Tony grins to see the kid in better spirits.

They arrive by car to the ice cream parlor, street lamps lighting the dark road. Peter is strangely quiet during the ride and Tony tries to fill the silence with mindless chatter.

They exit the car and Tony is about to enter the parlor when Peter puts a hand on his arm.

"Hey, Mr. Star—Uh, Tony?"

"What's up, kid?"

Peter takes a deep breath, suddenly exuding anxious energy. "Can you promise me something?"

Tony narrows his eyes. "That would depend on what you're asking."

"Could you just promise me first?" Peter insists.

Tony puts his hands in his pockets and gives him a hard look. "You know I don't play games like that. What is it, Peter?"

Peter sighs and wraps his arms around his middle. "Could you promise me... if anything ever happens to me, like—like if I lose control for some reason, or if something else is controlling me and I could hurt people…would you stop me?"

Tony is caught unawares by the question and Peter tentatively continues before he can formulate a response.

"Like, no matter what that means? I just… I don't wanna hurt anyone. I don't ever wanna be so far gone that that could happen." Peter's face is set and determined as he holds Tony's eye.

"That's not gonna happen, kid," Tony says, shaking his head lightly.

"Well, if it's not gonna happen," Peter pushes, "then there's no harm in you promising!"

Tony stares Peter full in the face. Peter refuses to look away. Tony knows the look the kid is wearing, and he knows they won't be leaving here until he gives in to what Peter wants. The man takes a breath and pushes his lips together in a thin line, breathing out hard through his nose.

"Sure, kid," he says, his tone almost dismissive (but Peter knows him enough to know he's just deflecting). "If you ever get mind-controlled by a wizard, or infected with a brain-eating parasite, or...hijacked by your own invention—I'll handle it."

"You'll stop me," Peter clarifies, "before I hurt anyone." He doesn't phrase it as a question. "You promise… You have to say it, Tony."

Tony huffs and glances away, before looking back.

"Yeah, kid," he says stiffly, "I promise."

.

.

.

He promised.

Next time: 5 years later…