AN: Okay, this chapter has a major CW/TW for discussed sexual abuse. I'll be honest, though I do have ideas of what Peter's time on the run was like... I hadn't originally planned to include this in this story. But here it is.
Tony steeled himself as he approached his son's bedroom door - FRIDAY had reported that Peter had had lunch and then retreated to his room.
Tony knocked, trying not to over think it, though he wasn't sure yet how to approach this conversation with his son, but knowing that it needed to happen.
Tony had hoped for years that Peter might never know about the articles that advertised what Howard Stark had forced him to do as a child and a teenager - but he had always known that Peter would find out eventually. He had just hoped that it wouldn't change how Peter viewed him.
"Come in." Came the muffled voice of his son from the other side of the door, and Tony opened the door and stepped in, closing it behind him. Peter looked up and quickly looked away when he realized it was Tony, not making eye contact.
"Bambino, I love you so much." Tony said, sinking onto the bed next to his son and pulling him into a tight hug.
He wasn't sure what to expect of his son's response, but Tony relaxed when Peter did, turning into his embrace and clinging tight. Tony ran his fingers through Peter's hair, trying to sooth his shaking son.
"You talked to Papa?" Peter mumbled into Tony's chest.
"Yeah, I talked to Papa." Tony made sure to keep his voice gentle.
"I didn't want to hurt you. I didn't want you to know what he said." Peter was still mumbling. "I'm not sorry I punched him. He'll think twice before saying something like that again. But I am sorry that you had to know."
Tony pulled back and tilted Peter's face up to him. "You realize, I hope," Tony made sure to keep his voice light and teasing, "That you broke basically the only two rules we have?"
Peter furrowed his eyebrows. "What do you mean?"
"One - no fighting." Tony pointed out. "The second is to let us protect you, not the other way around."
Peter flushed. "I could never let him get away with saying that about you. It's not true or fair. I couldn't look you in the eyes if I let him say that."
"I know Peter," Tony said gently. "I am proud of you, and so deeply touched that you defended me like that. But keeping it from us? Allowing yourself to be suspended for days, to have everything taken away because you don't want me to know what was said? You didn't do anything wrong. We would have never grounded you with this information. In fact, you are not longer grounded, effective immediately. But even if you didn't want to tell me, you needed to tell one of us. So that we can protect you."
"I told Papa." Peter pouted.
"Eventually." Tony said sarcastically. "With much pulling and prodding and begging, you eventually told Papa. But all of this could have been avoided if you told him on Tuesday or even Wednesday. It's Saturday, Pete! And you've been avoiding us in order to not tell us, and that's not alright. You don't get to pull away to protect us. That didn't work out so well last time, right?"
Peter flushed. "I wouldn't have ran away again! This was different. And I know it looked that way when you came in to ground me, but I swear! It didn't even cross my mind."
Tony felt a weight lift off of his shoulders at that proclamation. "Peter, I believe you." He said gently. "But I need you to know that its not your job to protect us, and that includes with things like this. We don't want you to protect us at the detriment of your health."
Peter furrowed his eyebrows. "What do you mean?" Peter asked.
"We grounded you from training and from being Spiderman." Tony said gently. "We didn't realize how much you had to train everyday to keep your energy levels normal."
Peter flushed. "I realized it had never really come up before, and I didn't want you to think I was making excuses. I wasn't trying to keep it from you." He mumbled. "It was only supposed to be for like, 6 days. I could handle it for that long." He assured Tony.
"But you shouldn't have had to." Tony said gently. "Besides the fact that if we had known the whole story, we never would have grounded you in the first place, we need you to be honest with us. If we take something away that is that detrimental to your health, it isn't because we want to harm you, it's because we are ignorant to the consequences. There isn't a handbook for how to parent Spiderman." Peter chuckled a little bit at that. "I need to know that if that sort of situation arises again that you are going to be honest with us about the harm it could do to you, and trust us to listen. We trust you, Pete, and we know that you know your body better than we could. We would have come up with something that wasn't harmful if we knew."
"Yeah, you're right." Peter nodded. "I'm sorry I didn't say anything."
"You're forgiven." Tony said lightly, kissing the side of Peter's head. He hesitated only for a moment before asking a question he didn't want to ask, but knew he needed to.
"Papa said you'd seen the articles before, that Flash showing them to you wasn't the first time you were aware they existed?"
Peter nodded, not meeting Tony's eyes. "I didn't think you wanted me to know about them. About what was done to you."
"I'll admit, I didn't particularly." Tony agreed. "But since you are aware, do you have any questions you need to ask me about them?" Tony didn't want to ask this question, but he knew that he couldn't let his son stew on it either, afraid to bring it up.
"They're true?" Peter asked in a whisper.
"Yeah, they're true."
"How do you-" Peter stopped and shook his head. "Nevermind. No, I don't have any questions.
Tony furrowed his eyebrows, his stomach sinking. Peter wouldn't meet his eyes.
"Peter, if I'm uncomfortable answering a question you ask, or if it's a question you don't really need an answer to, I will tell you that." Tony said. "But I want you to know that you can ask and I won't be angry."
Peter's eyes flickered to Tony's and away, so fast that Tony couldn't be sure if he saw what he thought he did - terror.
"How do you get over feeling like you're dirty?" Peter whispered so quietly that Tony didn't know if he even heard him right.
Tony was shocked by the question - that wasn't the question of an innocent teenager to his dad - that was the question of someone who had been hurt - who was in pain and looking for help. Peter had been gone two years - and Tony had had nightmares imaging what could have happened to him in that time.
Before Tony could come up with an answer, Peter had pushed away and stood up. "Nevermind, forget I asked the question." He said quickly. "I shouldn't have asked, I-"
"Peter." Tony made sure that now, more than ever, his voice was gentle.
"No, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked-"
"Peter." Tony repeated his son's name. "Look at me."
Peter turned back around, but he couldn't keep eye contact with Tony. His body was hunched over, his fists clenched. His eyes kept flickering up to Tony's and then back down to the floor.
Instead of pushing for answers, Tony decided to answer the question that was asked of him. "I spent years in therapy." He admitted, levelly. "Years, talking about it. Understanding that what was done to me wasn't my fault. Understanding that I was a kid, and that even if you don't say no, even if you feel like you got yourself into the situation in the first place, it doesn't give anyone a right to do anything to you. And there are still days that I struggle with that, that I need the reminder that I'm not dirty, that I'm not broken. But you and Papa remind me that I'm so much more than my past, so much more than things that were done to me."
Peter's eyes flickered up and Tony thought he saw a flash of hope in them amongst the shame and fear, before they were trained back on the floor. He knew better than to push his son right now, knew that that wouldn't help the situation. Tony also wished to go and kill whoever had hurt his son in such a way.
"When, Peter?" He finally asked gently, as his son continued to shift back and forth on his feet, glancing up periodically at Tony.
"When I was on the run." Peter seemed as surprised as Tony did that Peter had answered.
Tony's heart clenched. He didn't want to hear this, he didn't want to know this, but he needed to. His son needed him to.
He didn't know what else to ask to coax his son to talk. Thankfully, it turned out he didn't have to.
"I-" Peter stopped and ran his fingers through his hair. "I was really short on money." He admitted. "And I didn't have my birth certificate or social security card or anything, plus I was only fourteen, so I couldn't get a legitimate job." He swallowed. "I heard from some street kids about a place in the Bronx that would hire you under the table. Underage. Paid well." Peter gave a half-hearted shrug. "I started as a waiter. You wore the outfit that they gave you, and you worked. And people looked."
Peter stopped talking, and Tony just let him be, allowing him to gather his thoughts, not pushing. Finally, Peter continued.
"If you were pretty or popular, you got promoted pretty quickly. I didn't know what the promotion meant until I got it."
Tony had heard of places like this, though he hadn't ever been to one. He opened his mouth to comfort his son, but Peter continued talking.
"When you were promoted, you would still wait on tables, but the customers could pay money to have you by themselves. Sometimes a group of friends would rent you out, sometimes it would be couples, sometimes it would just be one person. I'd get a flat rate from the restaurant per hour, and then I was allowed to keep any tips. And the more you're willing to do - or allow to be done to you, the more tips you got. And it was like a slippery slope, once I started, I couldn't get out of it." Peter still wouldn't look at him, and Tony's heart broke more thoroughly with every word that Peter spoke. "It started with just stripping and allowing them to look, but by the end- by the end-" Peter couldn't continue, his tears had overwhelmed him and he was shaking.
Tony stood up and moved slowly towards his son. "Peter, are you okay if I hug you? It's okay if you aren't."
Peter looked up, his eyes wild, and took a step back. "No, I'm dirty."
"No, Peter, you aren't. I understand some of what you're feeling right now, but that doesn't mean I know the best way to respond. I'm so proud of you for opening up to me about what happened. And if you don't want me to hug you because it would be overwhelming or you're scared, that's okay. But I don't want you to think that I don't want to hug you over some notion you have that being abused makes you dirty."
Tony watched Peter, keeping about two feet of distance between them. He hadn't expected this conversation when he came into Peter's room, and while he felt out of his element, he knew he was the better option of the two to get through to their son. Steve loved Peter as much as Tony did, but Steve didn't have the personal experience that Tony did. This would have completely blindsided his husband. Peter wasn't a stranger to anxiety attacks, but he had hid this suffering better than Tony had thought possible.
Peter was clenching and unclenching his fists, looking at Tony but not seeing him.
Not knowing what else to do, Tony started humming. It was a song that Peter had loved as a baby, that had never failed to calm him down when nothing else worked.
This seemed to jolt Peter out of his trance, and he slowly stopped clenching his fists. "Daddy?" He whispered.
"I'm here, bambino." Tony's heart clenched. Peter hadn't called him Daddy in practically a decade.
"You want to hug me?" Peter asked, sounded broken and so unsure of himself.
"Always." Tony promised his son.
"I want you to hug me." Peter admitted, taking a tiny step forward.
Tony took that as a sign, stepping forward in two quick steps and engulfing his son in his arms. Peter broke down, sobbing.
Tony whispered quiet reassurances to his son, allowing him to cry. And Tony cried with him, knowing that Peter had been through unspeakable horrors that he had hoped his son would never experience. Tony moved them to the bed, positioning his back at the headboard while Peter clung to him.
It seemed like Peter was finally calming down, when Tony felt his whole body clench in his embrace. "I shouldn't have told you all of that." Peter whispered in horror. "I'm so sorry, I didn't meant to share all of that. That wasn't fair, you've been through so much too, you shouldn't have to deal with my shit-"
"Peter." Tony kept his voice gentle, but firm. "Remember? You aren't responsible for protecting me." He prodded. "It's the other way around. And I will go through any amount of suffering in order to help you, to protect you, and to support you. Because I love you, even if right now you feel like you aren't lovable." Peter flinched, and Tony knew that he had hit the nail on the head. "I was serious about the fact that I was in counseling." He mused quietly. "I still see my shr- my counselor periodically."
"Really?" Peter's voice was muffled in Tony's shirt.
"Really." Tony confirmed. "I think that it would be something good to get started for you."
"I think so too." Peter agreed. They were silent for a little while before Peter spoke again. "Do I have to tell Papa?"
Tony pursed his lips, considering the question. "Well, Papa should know-"
Peter interrupted. "I know that. But do I have to tell him?" He sounded so vulnerable and small.
"Oh, Peter, no." Tony breathed. "I can tell Papa, as long as you're okay with that."
"I am." He felt Peter nod into his side. "I just… I've talked about a lot of things today that I didn't want to. I can't handle anymore."
"You don't have to, bambino." Tony promised. "I can take care of Papa."
"Thank you." Peter mumbled into Tony's side. "And thank you for still loving me." He whispered.
"I won't ever stop." Tony promised.
"Can we work in your lab tonight?" Peter sounded hesitant. "I know its my fault we didn't last night but-"
"Of course we can, baby." Tony assured him.
Peter rolled out of Tony's embrace and looked up at him from the bed. "Okay." He smiled a little. "I think I might to take a nap first." He admitted. "And a shower."
"Okay." Tony kissed the top of Peter's head. "Do you want me to leave or stay?"
Peter smiled. "You can go. I'll be okay. And I'll have FRIDAY get you if I'm not."
"Perfect." Tony said, moving off the bed. "I do love you Peter, so much. I don't want you panicking and doubting that the minute that I walk out of your room. Okay?"
Peter laughed a little bit. "I know, Dad." He promised, starting to gather some clothes to head into the bedroom. He surged forward for another quick hug, pulling away before Tony fully registered the movement in the first place, before heading into the bathroom.
Outside Peter's room, Tony collapsed against the wall, running his fingers through his hair. He hadn't been fully prepared for that conversation with his son, and he knew he was going to have to schedule his own appointment with his shrink - his counselor - to process everything. Tony reminded himself that if he wanted Peter to understand counseling as a positive thing, he couldn't refer to his counselor as a shrink - it had a more negative connotation.
Tony heard the water start in the bathroom and forced himself away from the wall back down to the lab. This conversation he had to have with his husband was not going to be a fun one. Now Tony had an idea of how Steve felt when he came back from his own talk with their son.
Steve looked up when Tony came in. "That took longer than - what's wrong? Is Peter okay? Are you okay?"
Tony collapsed. "He's okay. I'm okay. It's just-" Tony didn't finish his sentence right away.
"What?" Steve asked him, concerned.
"Peter… Peter disclosed to me about some sexual abuse he experienced when he was on the run." Tony hadn't figured out a way to sugarcoat that information.
Steve froze. "What?" He asked, incredulous. "No, we would have-I think I'm going to be sick." Steve swallowed, just staring at Tony. "What else did he say?"
Tony quietly relayed the whole conversation he had had with Peter.
Steve looked shocked and was quiet, listening the whole time that Tony spoke. When Tony finally finished his story, Steve took Tony's hands in his own.
"I'm worried about Peter, and we are going to come back to that in just a moment," Steve started. "But Tony, are you okay?"
Tony felt his body shaking and fell into his husband's arms, drawing strength. "I am." He said quietly, despite himself. "I really am. I'm heartbroken, but I'm okay."
"I'm glad one of us is," Steve murmured.
"We need to be strong for him. We can't treat him any differently." Tony instructed.
"I remember." Steve and Tony had had many conversations about what Tony had gone through, especially when Tony had disclosed to Steve. Tony had told him what he needed from the people in his life, and that included not being treated like he was fragile or different.
"Peter wants to work down here for a while." Tony told Steve. "I couldn't tell him no." They had had dinner plans for the night, just the two of them, but Tony figured that his husband would understand.
Steve waved him off. "Of course you couldn't tell him no. How about I order pizza and we can all work down here. I've got my own stuff to do while the two of you tinker around."
"We don't tinker." Tony pretended to be put out by the statement from his husband, but laughed. "I think pizza would be great. Peter loves pizza."
Steve was just hanging up from ordering their large order of pizzas, when he stopped, tilting his head.
"What?" Tony asked, turning to look at him.
"Peter. He's on his way downstairs, but he seems hesitant." Steve raised an eyebrow at Tony.
"He'll come in when he's ready." Tony assured him. "Get your stuff out to work, that way he won't have the pressure of thinking we are waiting for him."
"We are waiting for him." Steve said blankly.
Tony rolled his eyes. "Honestly, Capsicle, I know it's been a long day. But Peter doesn't need to feel like we are waiting for him."
"Oh. Right." Steve started pulling out his computer and pulled it up. Even Tony wasn't able to stop himself from looking up, however, when the doors opened on their own.
Peter stood there, his hair damp. He had put on a pair of sweatpants he had stolen from Steve months ago, and Tony's MIT sweatshirt. Tony knew that when he was wearing their clothes, it signified that he was stressed or in need of comfort.
"Um… hi." Peter shifted from one foot to another, looking between his dads. He looked impossibly young, standing there in their oversized clothes, barefoot and unsure.
"Hey Petey," Steve said gently, smiling up at their son from the couch.
Peter's eyes flickered between Steve and Tony. "You two talked?" He asked, still not moving from his place in the doorway, and Tony wasn't the only one who picked up on the pure fear in his voice. Steve closed his laptop and stood up, moving slowly towards Peter.
"Yeah, we talked baby." Steve said gently. "I'm so proud of you. And I'm so sorry that you went through what you did. And I love you so much, Peter." Peter glanced at Tony, who nodded encouragingly, trying to relax Peter with his smile. Peter turned his attention back to Steve, and he shifted again.
"Can I hug you?" Steve asked gently, and Peter hesitated, before nodding, stepping closer to his Papa and allowing him to engulf him in his arms. "I love you so much," Steve murmured again to Peter.
"I love you too." Peter said, and his arms snaked around Steve's to hold him tight.
When Peter finally pulled back, Steve looked down at him with a smile. "I heard you and Dad are going to work down here tonight?"
"Yeah." Peter said, shifting. "Unless you guys had other stuff you needed to-"
"Nope." Tony said, popping the P. "I've got some stuff to work on with your suit. And Papa ordered pizza from your favorite shop, he's going to work on his own stuff while we, as Papa puts it, 'tinker.'" Tony shot Steve a mock look, and relaxed when he achieved the desired result.
"Papa, you know better than that." Peter teased. "Dad doesn't like that word."
Steve grinned and ruffled Peter's hair. "I know, that's why I use it." Steve winked at Peter.
"Okay." Peter laughed and bounded over to Tony, pressing into his side as he sat down to look at what he had out in front of him. "So what are we tinkering on tonight?"
Tony mock pouted as he listened to his husband and son laugh, but he felt relieved. After the events of this week, it would have been really easy to believe that they would never be this relaxed again. His son's laughter, which had been a sound he missed tremendously when Peter had been on the run, was healing for Tony.
Tony knew that the coming weeks and months and even years would be especially hard for his son, because the healing process was painful and long and difficult.
And Tony vowed to make sure that as time went on, Peter's laughter never died out.
AN: That's a wrap on this one! My next story is a multi-chapter story about Steve and Tony's time while Peter was on the run. I think its about four chapters, and I will start posting it soon!
