You made it through the cliffhanger! Congrats!

The song for this chapter is "You'll Be In My Heart" by Phil Collins. Because cuteness.

Sorry – I'm not feeling well today, so if I had anything else clever to say with this chapter, I've forgotten it.

Enjoy!


Chapter 8: One So Small


Tony was in the workshop waiting for May's call. She had wanted to be the one to pick Peter up from his dance, but he knew she'd also had a long couple of days and might need to relax — especially if she had any intention of joining Peter and Ned and Ned's mom for their Halloween outing tomorrow. Tony wouldn't mind grabbing the kid from the school if she was too tired.

He wanted to make sure they had won the competition, of course.

"Sir, I believe we have an emergency," JARVIS said suddenly from above. "Readings from young Mister Parker's watch suggest he is in danger."

"What?" Tony jumped to his feet. "Give me visuals, now!"

Though the upper part of the workshop contained only a fraction of the tech that was available below, it had enough for JARVIS to pull up a holographic display. Tony could see Peter's heart-rate skyrocketing, his breathing coming almost too fast for him to get any air — and readings that suggested…

"JARVIS, is somebody hitting him?"

"That would be consistent with the pattern of impacts. He has not moved to dodge them, so I can only conclude that he cannot for some reason."

Tony swore. "How fast can you get me there?"

"Sixty seconds in a suit, but I must remind you that we have not yet solved the visibility issue."

Tony braced his hands on the worktable and let out a guttural sound. "Fine. Get the car going. But I need to be there now." He ran out of the workshop to see JARVIS already having started the car parked outside and pulling it around. Tony didn't even bother to climb into the driver's seat — he just grabbed the nearest door and threw himself in.

"I can reach the school in under five minutes if I creatively interpret the rules of the road and all applicable speed limits."

"Do it! I'll call May." His hands didn't shake as he pulled his phone from his pocket.

She answered on the third ring, sounding a little surprised. "Hi Tony."

"May, Peter's in trouble."

He heard her gasp. "What…?"

"I don't know. I'm on my way to him. JARVIS, my AI, you know, gave me an alert from his watch. I wanted to give you a heads up."

"What...what's happening?"

Tony sucked in a breath and opted not to say anything specific. "The biometric readings aren't very precise, but I'm sure he's at least panicking. I won't be able to tell more until I get there."

"Oh my god." May's voice started shaking. "Okay. Just...help him. Please, Tony."

Tony took a deep breath and tried to make his words as even and reassuring as possible. The way Pepper or Bruce or even Steve Rogers could make people feel safer just by their tone.

"I'm almost there and I'll bring him back to you, May. Trust me. I won't let anything happen to Peter."

"O-okay, Tony. I'll...just tell me what you need me to do."

"JARVIS will text you if there's anything we need. Try to stay calm. It's going to be okay."

"Sir," JARVIS's voice rang out in the car, "I have a lock on Mister Parker's phone and a route plotted into the building. I will pull up at the nearest door."

"Tony…"

"May, I gotta go. I've got him." He swallowed. "You asked me to protect him. Trust me."

"I do trust you," and in spite of her own panic, he could hear the truth, and maybe a shade of relief in it. "Bring him home."

Tony nodded and ended the call. He slipped the phone back into his pocket and grabbed a comm unit from the car — he had comm units everywhere in case he needed to reach JARVIS in a hurry — jamming it into his ear. The comm was better than just a means for JARVIS to speak to him; it also had advanced sensors that would let JARVIS 'see' his surroundings more clearly without Tony having to wave his phone around when he was in a hurry.

"J, how's the kid?"

"Not well, sir. His breathing has become shallow. He may be going into shock."

"Shit! How far out?"

"Thirty seconds. The door will be on your left. I have already disabled any security alarms. From there, turn right down the first hallway."

The car came to a screeching halt and Tony was almost certain that JARVIS had brought the car up on the actual lawn of the school. But they were around behind the gym, back by the dumpsters, where there were only a few security lights and no people milling about.

Except for four kids dressed up like skeletons who were running through the empty soccer field and laughing. Tony's intuition made a leap, but he didn't have time to think about what those kids might have been doing or to whom — Peter needed him now.

Tony dashed from the car into the building, banging the door open with a fist and following JARVIS's directions. He could hear the thumping of the bass from music playing in the gym, but these hallways were all dark and smelled like dust and mold and old sweat. What was Peter doing back here?

"Sir, around the next corner then on the right."

Tony skidded on the tiles and almost crashed into a shut door in the darkness. "In here, J?"

"Yes, sir."

The heavy door blocked most sound, but what little Tony could hear made his heart leap into his throat. He threw the door open with more force than was probably necessary and felt around for a lightswitch.

"Peter?"

When the fluorescent lights clicked on, Tony felt like hitting something.

Peter was sprawled in the middle of a dusty, little-used storage room. The plastic remains of a trophy were pulverized at his side.

And he was pinned to the ground by two enormous, hundred-pound punching bags — one lying across his legs and lower back, and the other on his shoulders and neck.

Peter was gasping more than crying, making helpless, terrified noises interspersed with something that might have been words.

"Help...Stuck...Ben…"

That last broke Tony's heart.

Once, Tony had seen a video of Steve Rogers punching sand bags hard enough to send them flying across a room. When he stepped forward and ripped the first off the kid, he threw it nearly as far. He rolled the second away and dropped to his knees.

Peter's armor had dents in it along both sides, and Tony didn't need JARVIS's analysis in his ear to tell him that those were made by steel-toed boots.

Tony reached down and gently turned the kid over.

"Peter?"

He moved to unlatch the helmet and realized that the clasps on one side had been bent, possibly by a kick. However, Tony was strong — maybe not Hulk strong or Captain America strong, but strong enough to forge his own armor in a cave over fire — and he bent the clasp until it snapped in his fingers.

"Pete, it's me."

He hauled the kid upright so he was sitting against Tony's chest and pulled off the helmet.

Peter's face was white, but his eyes were red and there was blood on his nose from where it had been pressed against the flat plate of the helmet. His gaze was unseeing, his mouth open, and he wasn't breathing beyond little hiccuping gasps.

There might have been words in the gasps, but most of them just sounded like pain.

Tony worked on getting Peter's gloves off. His fingers were icy cold.

"You're scaring me here, Underoos." Tony arranged the kid so that Peter's ear was pressed close to hear his heartbeat and took both hands in his own. "Breathe with me. Deep breaths."

He took a deliberate, slow breath. Held it for a few seconds. Let it out just as slowly.

Against him, Peter shuddered.

"Come on, kiddo. You gotta help me out here."

Wetness from Peter's tears and blood soaked into his shirt. The next breath Tony demonstrated garnered the same lack of reaction.

"Damnit, Peter!" Tony was getting scared now.

"Sir," JARVIS said in his ear, "you must calm him quickly or he will need official medical attention."

Tony reached down and put his hands on Peter's cheeks, pulling his head up. He stared into the kid's eyes, willing him to see Tony and not whatever horror — Ben dying — was before him.

"Peter Benjamin Parker." He said it, not accusingly or like a command, but gently. "I am right here. You're safe. But you need to breathe, buddy. I know you're scared and I know it hurts. But try. Come on. Be brave for me, figlio."

Maybe it was the slip into Italian, or the eye-contact, or the warmth of Tony's hands on his freezing cheeks. But a point of light came into Peter's eyes and his chest shook as he fought for a breath.

"Good," Tony said, never looking away. "Let it out, slowly. Relax. I know your body is fighting you. I've got you. Nothing's going to hurt you now."

Peter's mouth opened and shut, and he hissed out air that sounded painful.

Tony released one of Peter's cheeks so he could get a hand down in the gap in the armor by the kid's throat, his fingers just reaching the chest that was shaking.

"Now in, slowly. Don't strain for it. With me." He demonstrated the breath and rubbed a few circles on Peter's collarbone where he could reach.

This breath came more easily. But Tony felt the seizing of muscles that meant Peter was about to cough.

"Easy." He kept his voice low. "Slower. Don't force it and don't try to talk. You're safe."

Peter actually nodded slightly, and Tony could feel his chest relax a little more. The risk of coughing passed. Tony just held on, easing Peter through every breath, petting his cheek or running his fingers through the boy's curls.

Finally, and only after JARVIS in his ear confirmed the watch sensors showed Peter's biometrics approaching normal, Tony allowed himself to relax slightly.

But Peter still looked awful, and now that he wasn't in a fight for air, a wash of fear and trauma crashed into his young face.

"M-Mister...Carbonell?"

"Think you can walk out of here, kid?" Tony asked. "We need to get you home and warmed up."

"I…"

"You're a little much for me to carry in the suit, but I will if I have to." He said it teasingly, but he meant it, too. Now that Peter could breathe, he wanted him out of here now.

But Peter, always eager to help, never wanting to be a burden on anybody, shook his head.

"I can do it," he whispered.

Tony stood first, then leaned down to haul him up. "Go slow. If you get dizzy or if your breathing goes bad, we'll stop." He steadied the kid, and a good thing, too — Peter was wobbling and tipping sideways as if drunk. Once he got the kid fully upright, he lodged a hand under the chestplate, knowing he could hold the kid up by it if he had to. But Peter gamely fought for his steps at his side.

Tony led him back through the dark hallways in silence.

In his comm, however, JARVIS was less silent.

"I have already texted Missus Parker about young Mister Parker's state. However, I cannot scan for any deeper injuries using only Mister Parker's watch. I suggest you assess him in your own apartment so that I may provide a more detailed picture of his current status. Additionally, that would prevent him from having to climb multiple flights of stairs. Depending upon the height from which the sand bags fell, he could be at risk for rib or even spinal damage. Unless you object, I will advise Missus Parker to meet you there."

Tony nodded, knowing that JARVIS would pick up the motion and lack of argument.

"Very well. I will inform her as to where to find supplies as well so all will be prepared for your arrival. I have also scanned all available security footage and social media posts, but there is no indication of what took place. However, I would note that four students left the school very shortly after the initial readings of Mister Parker's distress and they do correspond to the four students in his robotics club from what was visible on surrounding security cameras."

Tony grit his teeth.

There was a pause.

"Sir, I fear it is fair to say that, if not for the armor you crafted, Mister Parker may have been at risk for suffocation. The structure of the chest and shoulder plates in particular preserved his ability to breathe with so much weight on his back. He would also have more significant, possibly life-threatening bruising from both the bags and the kicking."

And if not for JARVIS, if not for the watch plugged into his systems, Tony might not have known Peter was in trouble until it was too late anyway. Until asthma and panic choked him. If not for JARVIS, if Tony hadn't been here at all, would any of the so-called adults at the dance have ever realized a kid was trapped and helpless? Would he have been stuck under those punching bags all night before they found him? All weekend?

Someone could have killed him.

Tony didn't want to think about whether or not four eighth grade bullies could be evil enough to have intended as much, but it was the kind of thing that happened when hazing went too far all the time.

And now it had almost happened to his kid.

"Sir," JARVIS said, "your blood pressure is rising. And you are rightly infuriated, but, I assure you, Mister Parker needs your calm more than your anger right now. I suggest you take your own advice and attempt a deep breath or two. Mister Parker is already tensing again in response to you."

Tony swallowed bile and made himself breathe deeply. The kid was a mirror, always reflecting back what others felt. And Tony was the worst at controlling his feelings, but right now, Peter needed him to do just that. Peter needed him to be calm so there would be nothing to fear.

But by god, I'm going to fix this. Nobody touches this kid again and gets away with it.

-==OOO==-

May didn't have a key to Tony's apartment, so she had no idea how she was going to get in, but the text message had been clear and she didn't have time to worry about things like doors when Peter was hurt. But as soon as she stopped outside the first-floor unit, the door clicked open.

"Please enter, Missus Parker," said a polite, British voice from within.

May found lights on already, but no one visible. "Hello?"

"Greetings." The voice came from everywhere. "I am JARVIS, Mister Stark's AI assistant and butler. Please forgive my forwardness in introducing myself, but I believe this is more convenient than texting."

"Oh." Of course Tony Stark had a computer brain for a butler wired into his apartment. "It's nice to meet you."

"The pleasure is all mine. Mister Stark wishes me to tell you that he will be leaving the school with young Mister Parker shortly. There are some things I can advise in advance of his arrival, if you would be willing?"

"What can I do?" she asked immediately.

JARVIS guided May through Tony's apartment — which, she finally noticed, was a lot less clean than it had been when they had their talk in August — gathering some first aid supplies, blankets, and even the necessary ingredients for preparing tea. The work gave May something to think about besides the blind panic of not knowing what had happened to her nephew, and JARVIS's voice was soothing and even.

Not that AIs could even panic. Probably. Who really knew?

"They will be pulling up in two minutes," JARVIS said finally. "If you need me, you may address me by name at any time, but my assumption is that neither you nor Sir wish for young Mister Parker to be aware of Sir's true identity or myself at this time."

"No." May shook her head. "Tony hasn't told him and now isn't the time."

"Then texting shall suffice. I have already taken the liberty of adding myself as contact in your phone so that you may reach me quickly."

"Oh. Thank you." May rubbed at her face. "I'm going to ask you about a hundred questions later, just so you know."

"I look forward to it, Missus Parker."

The next minute was one of the longer May remembered — she very nearly charged out of Tony's apartment to meet them, but finally decided that the best thing she could do was attempt to get herself under control. She and Peter had always set one another off when one or the other was emotional, and he needed her to be calm right now.

She almost managed it before the door opened and Tony emerged, half-supporting Peter.

May felt her fingers go to her cheeks and realized she was already crying.

Peter had dried blood on his nose, which was the only color on him besides eyes red from crying. His face was as pale as it had been the night Ben died. The Iron Man costume was badly dented, paint ruined, as if he had been poked in each side by something strong enough to dent the thin metal. She could already hear him wheezing as his asthmatic lungs fought against hyperventilating and inflammation and panic.

But it was his eyes, glassy and distant, that struck her the hardest.

Later, when she thought back on it, she would remember seeing Tony's unguarded face for an instant as he led Peter in and shut the door, and she would realize she had never before seen him so angry. Even as Tony Stark or Iron Man. But that would be later.

"Oh Peter!" May's heart thumped in her chest as she dashed forward. "It's okay, baby. I'm here."

Peter immediately started to cry again.

May ran her hands through his hair and started on the breathing exercises that always helped him calm down. Meanwhile, Tony was moving around Peter — unhooking the armor piece by piece so they could reach him. He dropped the pieces on the carpet rather than the tile, and May knew he did it to keep from startling them with the clanking sounds even though that meant there would probably be paint on his carpet later.

It was such an odd kindness, it made her eyes well up again.

May realized Peter was clutching the helmet in one hand, his gloves shoved inside it, and she eased it from his fingers while Tony untied his shoes.

"We're going to sit down, Peter. It's okay."

Peter was swaying where he stood, his chest hitching on every breath, and his eyes were still so wide. But he followed as she pulled him to Tony's couch and wrapped him in a thick blanket.

"May," Tony said, voice low. "Here."

He held out his phone.

May took it, dragging her eyes away from Peter to see a readout of what must be information from JARVIS. How, exactly, he got such precise information about the kid she couldn't imagine, but it was amazing even as it was heartbreaking. Besides all the respiratory symptoms she knew all too well, he was littered with contusions everywhere and had a few places that needed to be checked for bleeding if the edges of the armor had bitten into his skin.

"Okay, Underoos," Tony was saying as she read. "I know you feel bad, but we need to check you out and see if there's anything going on. You okay with me looking under your shirt?"

May looked up to see Peter nod, but Tony glanced back at her before he moved.

"Go ahead," she said, shakily. Instead, she moved around him so she could sit beside Peter and continue to stroke his back.

Tony knelt by the couch and pushed the blanket down to be around Peter's lap before he gently tugged the shirt up.

May hadn't really stopped crying, but she certainly cried harder when she saw the bloom of bruises across Peter's pale skin. His front was red with shallow cuts where the edges of the armor had caught him, but his back and his sides were purpleing already. His back had two dark areas that she could only assume came from the armor hitting him hard, the way brains rocked around in a skull during a concussion. But his sides were ugly rosettes of impact bruises.

"What...what happened?" she managed. She wiped at her face with a hand that shook.

"I'll tell you later," Tony said, and the dissonance between his furious eyes and his even tone made her afraid even as it comforted her.

Tony grabbed the first aid kit she'd set on the trunk coffee table and pulled out some antiseptic wipes.

"This'll be cold, kid. But I'll make it quick."

May watched him sharply, but his movements, while not as precise as hers would have been, were gentle enough. And, honestly, his hands were steadier than hers right now, anyway. She took the chance to focus on getting herself under control again, willing her tears to stop.

Tony was thorough, and careful, but almost nonchalant as he cleaned the cuts left by the edges of the armor. Several were accompanied by bruises, but none of the cuts were dangerous or even deep enough for concern once they were clean. Tony also checked Peter's ribs for cracks, which hadn't been mentioned in JARVIS's scan — May thought he was doing it for his own peace of mind more than necessity.

"I know you need ice on some of these," Tony said, peering down at Peter's right-hand side, "but not if you're still too cold." He looked at May.

May brushed a hand along the back of Peter's neck — it was still chilled and clammy.

"Blanket first," she decided.

Tony nodded and pushed Peter's shirt down, wrapping him in a blanket-burrito and shoving him into May's arms. He used another wipe on Peter's face, then stepped back.

Peter had been quiet this whole time, snuffling while his breathing settled. But finally he looked up at May and his eyes held recognition.

"I'm sorry, Aunt May."

Tony surged as if to yell, but May simply squeezed the boy in her arms. "Why, Peter?"

"I...I know you had a long day. And you must be tired. And I…"

"Shh." She shook her head. "You come first, Peter. Always and forever. Nothing could ever be more important to me than taking care of you." She looked up at Tony. "I set out stuff for tea but didn't start it. Could you?"

"I'm on it," he said, accepting the task and the distraction and moving to the kitchen.

Not that he couldn't hear every word, but she wanted to give Peter at least the illusion of privacy.

"Can you tell me what happened?"

"I...I had just won the costume contest, but I got lost." She maintained her tight grip to ground him even as his eyes filled with tears again. "S-somebody grabbed me. I couldn't see who. And...and they pushed me down. I told them to s-stop, but…"

"It's okay, honey," May said. "You're safe."

"They-they put something heavy on me and I...I was...I…"

May knew the signs of a panic attack mounting and was quick to put her hands on his cheeks, releasing the pressure around him. Ever since Ben's death, Peter had sometimes had trouble when he felt trapped, so she also loosened the blanket, just in case.

Peter looked up towards the kitchen where May saw Tony watching them. She caught the pleading look on Peter's face just a second after Tony did.

"Somebody dropped a couple of hundred-pound punching bags on his back," Tony said, meeting her gaze squarely. "He couldn't move under them. Then they kicked him wherever they could reach before they left him in the dark."

"Oh my god." May didn't mean to do it, but she couldn't help it — she went back to crying again. "You must have been so scared."

Peter nodded and leaned against her, also starting to cry.

May's heart felt jagged, and she rocked the boy as gently as she could without crowding him. It was as much to soothe him as her. How could someone do something so cruel to Peter? To a boy so full of love and kindness and brilliance? And for them, knowingly or not, to play upon his fears born after Ben's death...May just cried for him. How many nights in the first weeks had Peter woken after dreaming about being trapped by the car that had killed Ben? How many times had he gotten tangled in blankets and woken afraid before he could work himself loose?

Certainly many, many more times than he had ever let her see. And what she had seen was bad enough.

"I'm so sorry," she found herself whispering. "I'm so sorry, Peter. You're safe now. I've got you."

May and Peter may have gone back and forth all night, crying and calming only to start up again — and not for the first time in the last year, even — but for the presence of Tony.

"Take this," he said softly a few minutes later.

May looked up to see him holding a pair of steaming mugs. Tony waited until she had grasped one filled with tea before he used his other arm to prop Peter up on the couch instead of May and pushed the other mug into his hands. Even Peter with tears on his face wouldn't say no to a mug of cocoa that was half marshmallow.

May wiped at her eyes and sipped her tea, letting the warmth sink into her chest and easing the ache that had sat there since Tony's call. Peter, sniffling, copied her.

Tony perched on the trunk that was both a coffee table and, apparently, a storage compartment for the Iron Man armor, and looked steadily at them both. He shook his head.

"I have no idea how to do this," he said more to himself than them.

May was about to say something, but Peter beat her to it.

"Thank you." His voice was shaky and thick from the crying, but the eyes he turned on Tony were warm. "You saved me."

"Aw kid." Tony ran a hand through his own hair. "You shouldn't have needed saving."

"But I did." Peter shivered almost hard enough to spill the cocoa. "And I didn't think anyone...I yelled and no one came and…" He hauled in a breath and May marveled at Peter's ability to will himself to go on when he was so clearly upset; he hadn't mastered that by learning from her. "You found me when I didn't think anybody was going to. So...thank you for coming for me."

The look that came over Tony's face reminded May of the one he'd worn when he revealed his identity and promised to protect Peter.

"Underoos, if you are ever in trouble, I will come. Okay? No matter what."

May felt the power of that promise, knowing it came not just from Tony Carbonell but from Tony Stark and Iron Man. And yet Peter, who knew none of that, felt it as well, because his eyes got round and shone.

"Only if you let me come help you when you need it, too."

Tony huffed a laugh and May chuckled because of course Peter wouldn't be satisfied with a hero vowing to protect him; he had to protect the hero right back.

Mister Carbonell, though, grinned and held out a hand. May grabbed Peter's mug of cocoa before it could go sideways so the kid could extract an arm and reach back. They shook as solemnly as if swearing an unbreakable oath.

And maybe they were.

"Deal," Tony said. "You and me, backup for life."

"Backup for life," Peter repeated.

Oh dear god what on earth are they going to get up to now? May couldn't help but wonder.

She drew in a breath, grateful that it came more easily and with less chance of crying all over again, and decided it was time for some mom power — or aunt power, whatever.

"Alright, boys," she said. "Peter, I think we should get you to bed. I know it's a little early for a Friday, but you've had a difficult day, body and brain. Sleep will do a lot of healing."

"What about tomorrow?" Peter asked, immediately concerned. "Can I still go to all the Halloween stuff with Ned?"

"Of course you can," May said quickly, "as long as you're feeling up to it. You might be pretty sore"

"I'll be fine!" Then his eyes clouded over. "I guess I'll have to use the Jedi costume, though. The armor got kind of ruined."

May saw Tony not react very deliberately and ran her hand over Peter's head. "Let's worry about that tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay." But Peter didn't move. Instead, he peered into his half-gone mug of marshmallows and cocoa. "Um."

"What do you need, kiddo?" Tony asked.

"Could I...I mean…" He so clearly wanted to ask for something, and May knew by that look on his face that he felt bad about it. Which meant he wanted something to help him feel safe, but didn't want to be a problem. As if Peter could ever be a problem for anybody worth his time.

"Well, I'm not ready for bed yet," Tony said suddenly, catching May's eye. "Would it be okay with you if the kid kept me company for a little while first? Maybe we could put on a movie?"

May smiled as Peter immediately perked up. "Well." She pretended to think about it, then winked. "As long as it's soothing."

And that was how all three of them ended up on the couch under blankets watching A New Hope, Peter sandwiched between May and Tony but with enough space to move around so he didn't feel the pressure of their presence. Long before the final attack on the Death Star, Peter was fast asleep, May was on her third cup of tea, and Tony had stolen the last of Peter's second mug of cocoa and downed it in one big gulp.

Tony used the remote to turn off the TV, looking over Peter's sleeping face to May.

"If he's comfortable here, you two can stay," he offered suddenly. "I've got a bed in the workshop." He lowered his voice. "Kid deserves not to walk up seven flights of stairs, and I don't want to wake him."

Then he winked. "And I can't quite carry him up all those stairs without a little...augmentation."

May huffed a laugh. "That's very kind of you, Tony."

He swallowed and looked away.

"I didn't know how to help him," he said softly. "I've never...this isn't…" He let out a breath.

"Tony," May said. She reached across the couch and behind Peter to tap him on the shoulder. "You did wonderfully. We'd both still be panicking if you weren't here, probably."

"Can't have that." He sniffed. "I just...I tried to think about what I wanted someone to do for me when I was a kid."

May didn't know much about Tony Stark as a person growing up, but as a nurse she had seen a lot of kids and adults who hadn't been shown kindness when they were young and afraid, and she knew the signs. She also knew the value of someone willing to put those lessons of callousness aside to show gentleness, rather than repeating the cycle of shame. She could intuit a lot from what he was showing her now.

"I'm sorry no one was there for you," she said. "Every child should know that someone loves them and will rescue them when they are afraid and bandage up their hurts and hold them close. Every child. And every adult, too. We all need to be cared for when we hurt."

Tony didn't look at her, but he reached out to tousle Peter's hair. Peter, sleeping the sleep of the twelve-year-old, didn't so much as flinch.

"I thought about Jarvis," Tony whispered. "Not the AI, the man. He was my dad's butler, but he was there for me. Taught me to tie a tie, put ice on my bruises when my brains got me into trouble. He...I think Jarvis would have liked Peter a lot."

May nodded.

"Is this what it's like?" Tony asked, looking up. "I don't...I love Pepper, would give her the moon if I could fit it on a chain, but it isn't like this. Even when she was hurt, it wasn't exactly…"

"Loving a child feels like wanting to pull them into your heart and hold them safe and never let go," May said. "And at the same time wanting to see them fly because they deserve the sky and all it holds...and then running after them to catch them if they fall."

Tony groaned and ducked his head. "I'm never having another kid. A kid. That's what I meant. I'm never having a kid. Not if…"

May didn't quite laugh at the slip, and didn't bother to correct him. He'd figure it out soon enough. But she could see the anger creeping back into his face and it brought her back to reality as well.

"What am I going to do about this?" she asked, looking at Peter's face that was no longer so pale, but knowing the bruises hidden under his shirt. "The school...how do I…?"

Tony looked up. "In all seriousness, if you want me to arrange for the kids that did this to be gone, they're gone. I'm sure their parents would all appreciate job offers in another time zone."

"You know who did it?"

"Unofficially, yes." He pursed his lips. "But the info comes from JARVIS and cameras that aren't exactly legally hacked. There's nothing I could give you to take to the principal."

"It was those robotics club kids, wasn't it?"

"You knew about it, too?"

May gave him a flat look. "I don't have to have an IQ in the two-hundreds to know when my nephew is being bullied, Tony. I've seen the signs. Honestly, when Peter goes out of his way to not talk about something or someone, that usually means it's bad. The less he says, the worse it is. And I haven't even heard their names."

Tony's jaw went sharp. "I don't know how to fix this, but say the word, anything, and I'll make it work." He looked at Peter's sleeping face. "This...this doesn't happen again, May."

She nodded. "Chances are nothing comes of it if we go to the school. With no evidence, they'll talk to the boys, but they can't punish them for something nobody saw them do."

"Not good enough." Tony scowled. "If they think Peter ratted them out, they'll go at him even harder."

"I know." May looked down at Peter and sighed. "I think we have to talk him into pulling out of the robotics club." She shrugged at Tony's surprise. "I know, it means those kids can feel like they won. But at least he won't be around them as much. And it will give them less reason to lash out at him."

"Or it will make them feel stronger and they'll double down," Tony said. "What about another school? If it's about the cost, I — "

"No, Tony," May said. "He's just started a new school. I'm not going to make him be the new kid all over again two months in."

"Okay." Tony shook his head. "If...if you can get him to leave the club, maybe I can...call in a favor at the school or something. It wouldn't be much but he doesn't share classes with those guys, right? So maybe it would be enough."

"It'll break his heart, though," May said. "The only thing I hear about robotics is how much he wanted to win that school competition."

Tony's head came up. "That's it. That's how we do it." And she watched a shark's smile come over his face — it was small and subtle and utterly terrifying in a way that made her heart beat faster.

"Do what? What are you thinking?"

"You talk him into leaving the club but staying enrolled in the exhibition in the spring. It's for all students, right? He told me that once. I'll take care of the rest."

May knew her eyes were wide. "Oh god, what are you going to do?"

"This isn't a problem that a Parker can solve, or a Carbonell." Tony's eyes glinted wickedly and May couldn't help the dark satisfaction it gave her. "But a Stark...or somebody a Stark can call? This is a game we play to win."

-==OOO==-

Tony waited until he was completely sure Peter was going to sleep okay before he left May in the apartment and headed to the workshop. JARVIS would keep an eye on both of them, and he had faith that between the two of them Peter would stay in the dark about his identity. May had been hesitant to leave the couch and Peter's side, but Tony showed her his bedroom with its rarely-slept-in bed and she was tired and stressed enough to quit arguing after she changed the sheets.

He only paused long enough to pack the costume armor into whatever bag he could find so he could take it with him.

Inside the workshop, Tony locked the door behind him. "JARVIS? Incognito mode."

"Very good, sir."

The door to the outside was the kind of hollow steel that one would expect on a garage, except that it wasn't actually hollow at all — built inside it was extra security that allowed a thick plate to slide out and secure the door to the wall such that nothing short of the Hulk would break it down. It also helped with sonic isolation.

Tony headed to the back of the workshop. "Open it up, J."

The concealed elevator was a thing of beauty and it made Tony happy every time he looked at it. He'd taken the idea from the classic bookshelf that opened to a secret room, except it was a full wall covered with shelves and it moved lightly and silently, revealing the elevator to the lower level he'd had built when he moved in here.

In the immediate area beneath the workshop there wasn't much. A couch and a lounge area, a microwave, a fridge, and whichever suit of armor he was currently most likely to need in an emergency. But there was also a tunnel that crossed beneath the grass outside, under the fence, to the warehouses that were quietly owned by SI. Warehouses and property it was much easier to repurpose for his home away from home. Or, rather, lab away from lab.

"JARVIS, I need you to get a couple of the fabrication units up. I'll dump the armor with them. I want every inch of it fixed or replaced, depending on the damage. That kid isn't missing his Halloween time with that friend tomorrow just because of a couple of jerks."

"I will begin loading the specs at once."

"What time is it?"

"It is currently just shy of midnight, sir."

"Is Pepper still up?"

"Miss Potts is not awake at present, no."

"Okay. Well, this actually plays better if she's not part of it, so…" He hesitated. "Hell with it, favors are owed and I'm calling this one in. Besides, those kids deserve whatever she does to give them nightmares"

Tony dumped the bag of costume bits next to the fabrication bots and then moved to his drafting table.

"Pull up contact info for Natalie Rushman."

-==OOO==-

Peter woke up feeling stiff and uncomfortable. The sun was coming in at an unfamiliar angle, and it took him several blinks before he realized that he wasn't in his room at all.

The events of the previous night came flooding back to him. But before he could even begin to panic again, he became aware of two things.

First, there was a literal pile of donuts on the coffee table beside him, enough to feed probably eight people with leftovers, and also a smaller pile of bagels with the chive cream cheese he knew Aunt May liked best. The donuts were all Halloween colors, and the sprinkles were bats and little ghosts, all except the Iron Man mask donut on the top of the pile.

Second, sitting on the chair next to the couch was his Iron Man costume — fully restored. It had even been repainted. There was a sticky note on it with Mister Carbonell's distinctive handwriting.

"This belongs to you. — TC"

He realized he could hear May moving around in another room, and guessed he shouldn't be surprised that she was up already, and he wondered how much she had been part of this morning surprise that felt a little bit like Christmas had come early.

As much as his body hurt from the beating he had taken, as much as the dreams that had followed him all night had bothered him, he found himself smiling.

Today he was going to see Ned and be Iron Man 2.0 again, and this time it was all going to go right.

And it did.