Title: My Favorite Weakness (is You)
Summary: "I hate having a weakness, but I won't give it up."
Rating: T (for violence)
A/N: I'll be interested to hear your thoughts on this chapter. Guten Appetit!
- Chapter Five: I Hate Having a Weakness (but I Won't Give it Up) -
- Day 4 -
Monday morning, Peter wakes up early. He takes initiative this time, eating a full, healthy breakfast for the first time since May's been gone. He actually feels accomplished and responsible for once, and he's not even Spider-Manning while doing it. He knows Ned probably won't be up for a few hours, so he heads out on patrol in the crisp morning sunshine and the fresh, chilly breeze.
He feels great all morning, mentally taking a note to thank Bucky, if he ever saw him again.
He swung around the neighborhood for a few hours, and mid-morning he helped some grocery store manager stop a guy in the parking lot who was trying to steal toilet paper. Peter couldn't wait to tell Ned about that. Not all the weirdness was bad, however; it seemed like it took a virus that put humanity at check to remind humanity they were all humans. He saw someone say something to a guy who was about to cut through a bike lock to steal a bike, successfully convincing him otherwise before Peter could even get down there; he saw some man grab a running purse thief by the arm, then take and return the lady's purse before just continuing on his way, leaving the lady to smile and shrug at Peter as he landed right next to her with no one to stop. At this rate, he thought, he'd have to move to part time.
In the early afternoon, he got a call from Mr. Stark.
"Hey kid, what's up?"
"Not much, I've just been hanging out."
"The sun brought up a nice day."
Peter wondered how long Mr. Stark had been up.
"You want to come by the tower?"
"Sure! Do I need to bring anything?"
"Just comfortable clothes; I thought we could try to finish those soft gloves you started yesterday."
Peter blinked, he didn't know Mr. Stark had even been paying attention to his project.
"Oh yeah, that'd be great."
"Great. See you in 10 minutes. FRIDAY will let you in." Mr. Stark hung up.
Peter felt weird, walking through Stark Tower's lobby, people looking at him curiously as he walked alone into an elevator and stayed on longer than the other few people. It was easy for Peter to forget that there were regular jobs at Stark Industries.
Apparently Mr. Stark was already in the workshop, because FRIDAY led him straight there. Peter could hear Mr. Stark's music as soon as he got on the floor; thankfully it softened when the workshop doors opened. "Hi Mr. Stark!"
"Hey, kiddo. Did you bring your suit?"
Peter smiled, his suit. "Yes sir!"
"Put 'er here, and don't call me sir."
"Yes si- I mean okay." Peter placed his suit on the table.
"Now, show me your ideas."
Peter explained his ideas and showed how the design worked; next thing he knew, the hologram in front of him was becoming a reality.
"Alright, what's next?" Mr. Stark asked, approaching him after refilling his coffee.
Peter grinned, "I was thinking, what if I had these little thingies kinda like flame throwers, you know, because my web shooters aren't always ideal for when the fight gets up close and personal, so a little burst of fire..." he made a "fffffou" fire-y sound effect and motion coming from his wrist.
He hesitated, trying to get a read on Mr. Stark. His chin was resting on his fist, arms crossed. He looked skeptical. "Like flame throwers?"
Peter cleared his throat and went on. "...Yeah. Like flame throwers."
"How would they be different?"
"Well, technically they'd be the same, just on a smaller scale; oh and they'd be called 'Heat Yeeters' instead."
Mr. Stark slowly tried the words. "...Heat... ...Yeeters."
"Yeah."
Peter waited; he had no idea what was going through Mr. Stark's head. He kept his face as solemn as he could, which wasn't very.
Finally Mr. Stark spoke, taking a deep breath. "I'm gonna say no to your... heat yeeters, for now." he shook his head ever so little, "yeah, definitely not." Peter's face dropped. "But on a more serious note, do you really have trouble with hand-to-hand combat? I thought you generally left the Up-Close-And-Personal to us- er - to me."
Peter shrugged. "Not often."
Mr. Stark nodded; "I didn't think so; but that also depends on how often you plan on having disasters like what we saw Saturday with your shoulder."
"That wasn't a disaster, I'm fine. Now."
Mr. Stark just gave him A Look.
Peter shrugged again. "I don't plan on any more of those."
"Good. Your suit should be done. Do you want to design your pizza while I run downstairs and pick it up?"
"Design my pizza?"
"Yeah, here." Mr. Stark slid over a StarkPad, where there was a make-your-own pizza page pulled up for a delivery order. "Go ahead and submit it when you're done, I've already put my order in."
"I have lunch at home, you didn't have to spend money on food for me," Peter protested.
Mr. Stark stood up to leave, "I think I can afford it; be right back. Oh, and I highly recommend NOT exploring the photo gallery," he smirked before he head out the door; Peter didn't plan on it.
Twenty minutes later, they were both happily sitting and eating their pizzas; Peter didn't understand how it was only his second (conscious) day up here, yet here he was eating pizza in the kitchen of Stark-Frickin-Tower while talking with Tony-Fricken-Stark as if it were an normal thing to do. He knew if he ever thought anything here were normal, he could just talk to Ned and get a friendly reminder it wasn't. Peter appreciated his friend's honesty, if anything.
Tony felt even more out of place, if possible. He'd worked all morning for the second day in a row on problems that made even him want to vomit or cry or quit this life, run away, and obtain a new identity.
He knew he'd never do that, yet here he was, feeling like he had.
After his first two failures of days when he was supposed to be Peter's backup and wasn't, he'd told himself he was going to make it up; but he knew if he'd sent the kid a StarkPhone that, that would more than make up for it to the kid, so why had he decided to actually spend time with Peter? It's not like he'd reached out before except for when he needed him in Germany.
And now Germany had caught back up with him, coincidentally when the kid had, as well. Or was it a coincidence? He'd told the kid that he appreciated his company as a distraction. But that sounded heartless. His father had been heartless towards him. Lots of people thought Tony, too, was heartless; not Pepper though. Not Happy. Maybe not Steve, but let's not go down that path. And for some reason, definitely Not Peter. Is that why he'd invited him into his life?
Tony didn't know why, and it scared him. Why was this teenager sitting here talking about his nerdy math team. Why did Tony actually enjoy listening to him. Why did Tony wait this long to reach out to him, and why did he reach out at all. This was one of those times when Tony hated his act-first-feelings-later (if ever) personality. Since he didn't know the why, he returned to the what and focused back on what the kid was saying.
They were both distracted by Tony's phone letting out a ring, intruding through the silence he had set it on.
FRIDAY's voice spoke before the second ring, "sorry, Boss."
Tony chest tightened when he saw who was calling: Secretary Ross.
He looked back up at Peter, who appeared to sense the call was no good news.
"I'm sorry Pete, I gotta take this."
"It's alright, you're good."
Of course it is and no I'm not.
"You want me to walk you out?" Tony suggested.
"I can't stay?"
"I don't know how long this call will last."
Peter shrugged. As if he had anywhere to be.
The call timed out and ended; Peter noticed, frowning.
"Don't worry," Tony said, almost hateful, "he'll call back."
As if on cue the phone lit up again, receiving the call.
Tony gave in. "Okay."
Speaking quickly (Very-Angry-Ross was worse than Normal-Angry-Ross), he gave Peter instructions.
"Just stay here, got it? Don't move. Don't leave the room, no wandering." Peter nodded.
Tony left him, answering the phone before he'd exited the room. If Ross had called through his security measure, Tony was sure he was already frustrated from who-knows-how-long he'd spent trying to reach Tony otherwise. It made Tony smile, though he knew it'd probably come back and bite him in about 3 seconds.
"Ross, oh how I haven't missed you."
Tony let Ross ramble while he left the area where Peter might overhear him.
"Tony," Ross began, reminding Tony how he hated when Ross called him by his first name. Or called him by any name. Or called him. "I've said this before, but I feel I need to repeat it, if the evidence isn't enough," Ross continued, "you need to control the mutants in New York City. The entire east coast is your next assignment, but I'm feeling nice." Tony scoffed. "I'm not joking, Stark. I'll come in if I have to; the west coast has been a good warm-up."
"What are you even talking about, 'control the mutants,'" Tony began, having reached a soundproof room at the end of the hall, "we cancelled the accords. And if you call these people 'mutants' again then I'll make you regret it. I'm not joking either." They both knew Tony kept his promises.
However, Ross laughed, signifying bad news.
"Yes, but you apparently didn't read all of what we replaced it with, so I'll be honored to inform you on what you will be doing." Tony pulled up the digital forms on a screen in front of him, ignoring Ross's power play.
"Even without the accords, we will be registering the... genetically enhanced individuals, under, oh, I don't know how it was written, but like a bar tab. I'm sure you understand that analogy well enough."
"I understand everything with any sense of logic behind it, which doesn't include you, so I'll in fact ask you to go on." Tony actually didn't follow, yet.
"Look, in simple terms, we need to have these individuals somehow register so they can individually hold some sort of responsibility, some "hero" standard to live up to. We can't just have some supervillain going around hurting people but getting away with it just because he or she claims they're doing it for the greater good or some awful reason. You're smart, I'm sure you can understand that, at the very least."
"Wow I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me." Tony didn't like where this was going; he understood it, yes, but did not like it.
Tony had learned the hard way that he needed Ross to talk, so he knew what his plans were, but he read because he didn't trust Ross to tell him everything; in fact, he knew he could trust Ross to leave out important details. So Tony sighed, sat down in a chair, and asked Ross to go on about the details while he read.
Peter had been about to begin the second half of his pizza when Bucky walked in, this time accompanied by someone. Peter dropped his phone on the counter when he recognized Hawkeye. He tried to play it off as just setting it down; if they noticed, the didn't say anything.
"Hey, Peter, Bucky told me about meeting you yesterday," Hawkeye began, and Peter was glad he'd already set down (dropped) his phone.
"He m-made me food," Peter replied. Hawkeye knew his name!
"So I've heard. I'm Clint. I was just hanging out and saw you might be in need of company." Peter followed his motion to the ceiling, not understanding.
"Through the... cameras?" Peter didn't see any.
Clint just smiled, "no. So how old are you, Peter?"
"Fifteen."
Clint nodded, turning back to Bucky. "I like him."
Bucky shrugged back, "told you you would."
Peter frowned, thinking. Mr. Stark hadn't seemed so keen on Peter having spoken with Bucky yesterday; would they be okay today? He didn't want to get Mr. Stark upset or Bucky and Clint in trouble.
"Mr. Stark just got a phone call," he explained.
"You call him 'Mr. Stark'?" Clint asked, puzzled; Bucky interrupted with a shrug and another question before Peter had a chance to answer.
"These phone calls can take a while. Have you eaten anything besides pizza today?"
Peter was proud to answer, "Yes, actually! I ate an early breakfast! which reminds me, thanks for the recommendation; I think it actually helped."
Bucky seemed pleased. "That's great! Just remember it's not so important when you eat breakfast as to what you break it with. Are you having anything else with lunch?"
"No."
"Do you need more with lunch?"
"I don't know."
What have you been doing all day?"
"I've just been busy."
"Working?
"Kind of."
"Do you come here for lunch to help budget?"
"No, there's plenty of food at home."
"Is there anyone else at home?"
"I live with my aunt." Peter was reminded of how he'd been interrogated by Mr. Stark yesterday. People here seemed to like to ask questions. But then again, so did Peter; maybe that's why they liked him, though he sort of doubted it, especially after how Bucky's questions were making him feel.
Clint chimed in then, ending the questioning; "c'mon, Bucky, give the kid some peace. Let him be with his secrets, Lord knows we have ours."
Peter frowned again; did they know he had a secret? Did they suspect what it was? Bucky already knew about his enhanced metabolism, and he didn't know how much he'd told Clint.
Bucky stopped asking questions though, and instead offered to make the promised guacamole. Peter relaxed again, excited for more food.
"You're gonna love it, and you better hope the others don't hear about it," Clint warned.
"The others?"
"Yeah, they fight for who gets to lick the bowl clean," Clint said.
Peter looked at Bucky, who was focused on what he was doing or avoiding answering the question the way Peter'd meant it.
Clint was very friendly and comfortable around Peter, so the three of them made easy conversation. Peter didn't entirely know what Bucky's powers consisted of, but he wouldn't doubt that cooking was one of them after he set down a bowl of guacamole not 5 minutes later and a bag of tortilla corn chips. Peter placed the other half of his pizza on hold.
Peter tried it and was impressed, Bucky proved him wrong about his distaste for avocados, thankfully. "It's absolutely delicious!" He exclaimed.
"And kosher," Bucky responded, "thanks!"
"Did you guys just recently moved into the tower?" Peter asked, changing the topic, "Mr. Stark seemed surprised to hear you came in here yesterday. Are you going to stay here?"
Peter noticed the two men share a Look.
Clint answered for Bucky, "I don't know."
Bucky continued, quietly; "it's been difficult for all of us, being back. Tony included, probably more than he lets on."
"Honestly," Clint picks back up, "the reason he's doing better than we'd expected is probably because you're here with him."
Peter doesn't understand. Yeah, Mr. Stark had said he was a "distraction," but Peter hadn't been helping with anything. His confused thoughts must have shown on his face.
Bucky shrugged. "He's right to be mad," he said, "regardless of what was right in the past."
"Who and what is right and wrong now has different parameters than what was considered right and wrong for a different situation," Clint said.
Bucky shrugged. Peter was confused. He figured it had to do with the fight in Germany, just a few months ago.
They sat there in silence; Clint looked almost guilty; Bucky's emotions were unreadable. Peter sat confused.
Just then the door opened, surprising all three of them. Tony walked in, and his face hardened when he noticed the two men in the room.
"What the hell," was all he said.
They both sat frozen, waiting for Tony to make the next move.
Peter noticed the sudden tension in the room, but spoke up, "hi Mr. Stark!"
Mr. Stark attempted a smile. Peter wasn't able to read his eyes. Was it anger? Fear? Or something else?
"Peter. Let's go."
Peter stood up, turning towards Bucky as he did so. "Thanks again for the guacamole," he said quietly.
Bucky gave him a smile.
Peter followed Mr. Stark back down to the workshop, neither of them saying a word.
Once in the workshop, Mr. Stark finally spoke; "I don't trust them."
Peter didn't know what he was expecting, but it wasn't that. "Mr. Stark, it's okay."
"No," Mr. Stark turned to look at him. "I want you to know that it's them I don't trust, not you."
Peter considered this.
"What are you thinking?" Mr. Stark asked him.
Peter shrugged. "Just a thought from earlier today."
"Care to share?"
Peter shrugged. "Bucky just made me food. He was being nice."
The dark look reappeared on Mr. Stark's face. "You shouldn't trust him. I don't think you should spend time with him."
Peter still didn't understand; the other Avengers were back together. They were here. They'd made up. Right? "But he was just being nice. We were just hanging out. I don't understand. You and I hang out."
Mr. Stark shook his head; "this is different. I know you, and you know me. You don't know them. You shouldn't even be talking with them."
Peter felt anger flash within him; he took a breath. "I don't get it," he protested, "They don't even know my last name, much less that I'm Spider-Man. They were hanging out with me, me, and I liked hanging out with them; they're cool, too, like you. These past two days have been two of my favorite in a loong time, Mr. Stark; but I'm just a, a helpful distraction for you. They like me for me! It's not like we've hung out since Germany. You haven't even reached out since I- well, Spider-Man, turned down becoming an Avenger."
Mr. Stark didn't reply right after. He looked hurt behind his confident stance - Peter could see it in his eyes, and looked away.
Mr. Stark gave a deep sigh. He sounded sad - almost defensive, when he spoke, and softly at that. "Pete, there's a lot- I don't know. I don't know what to say. Or how to say it. I didn't know what to do." He shook his head. "I'm trying to listen better. Remember, you said I didn't listen. Well, I'm listening now. I knew what I wanted but I didn't know what to do nor if I could do it. Then your aunt left, and the opportunity was given to me. I'm here now to listen. The 'distraction' was an excuse for the... the mentor thing."
Peter had very rarely heard Mr. Stark talk about anything about himself. The only other time was, ironically, the same event that Mr. Stark had brought up.
If you died, I'd feel like that's on me. So that's how he'd felt.
Peter bit the inside of his lip. So this was a repeat of Mr. Stark trying to be overprotective of him, preventing him from doing something Peter felt was okay.
He looked back at Mr. Stark; "You can't tell me who I can or can't trust."
Mr. Stark stayed silent; Peter felt like he was watching him retreat, and felt immediate regret for having said what he'd said.
Mr. Stark finally broke the silence; "I'm trying to help you," he said, softly. "But you're right." He looked like he had something else he wanted to say, but he didn't. Instead, he turned away, muttering something to himself and typing on his phone.
Peter wanted to apologize, but he didn't know what to say.
The next thing he knew, Happy was knocking on the door. Peter opened it, and Happy looked at them expectantly; "you ready to go?"
Peter looked questioningly at Mr. Stark.
He shrugged; "don't worry, I just need some time to work on some things here."
Peter looked down. He couldn't believe what a disaster he'd caused.
He didn't say much to Happy. About halfway into their car ride to Peter's apartment, Happy spoke up.
"What's up, kid? I know it's been a while, but your usually more talkative than this."
Peter sat alone in the back, his head resting against the car door.
"I said some mean things to Mr. Stark."
For a beat, the car was filled with only the sound of the road around them.
"Did you mean them?" Happy interrupted the quiet.
"What?"
"I don't need to know what you told him, but did you mean what you said?"
Peter thought about it. "Not all of it."
"You wanna know what I think?"
"Don't see how it could hurt."
Happy shrugged. "I think you're similar enough to Tony to realize that he probably appreciates the honesty, but will also need you to explain what parts you did and didn't mean. He's a genius, but he doesn't know a lick about matters once they involve feelings. And don't tell him I told you that."
Peter didn't know how this situation involved feelings; he really did think he was there as a distraction, and that he'd been foolish to think Mr. Stark would have thought of him as an apprentice or even a mentee.
Happy drops him off, and he walks up the stairs to find another surprise waiting for him outside his apartment.
Mr. Stark himself.
He watched Peter walk up, and cleared his throat.
"You forgot this," he said, holding out a paper bag.
Peter took it, knowing his suit was inside. "Thank you."
They stood there, each of them not saying anything, until Peter spoke up.
"Mr. Stark I'm sorry-"
"No, kid. I'm sorry."
Tony looks at Peter, and notices the boy shiver.
"Might want to put on your suit so you can turn on your Seat Heaters," Tony tried to lighten the mood.
Peter didn't answer, instead replying by scowling and rolling his eyes while unlocking the apartment door. Tony saw Peter's poor attempt to hide the amusement in his eyes but didn't point it out, letting Peter hide his emotions.
"Here's the thing, kid. I don't do well with people leaving on a bad note, so I wanted to come clarify some things.
"You were right when I said I've got a lot on my plate - I do. From personal backstabbers to annoyingly secretive wizards, ranging from our five boroughs to the rest of the world. And maybe beyond that," he added, noticing the kid shiver at backstabbers. "But none of that is for you to worry about."
"Can't the Avengers help you?" Peter asked, of course trying to help.
"No. Besides, that's not why I'm here. You addressed my having called you a 'distraction' from said problems. Truth is, that probably is part of the reason I reached out to you. Finally. You gotta realize, kid, that I can't go back in time. I waited until you showed up injured at my tower before I actually invited you in. And that's on me.
"But I'm talking about now. And more than that, I'm talking about why.
"Everyone's got their own strengths and weaknesses, right? I mean, look at me. The entire world knows some of my biggest strengths, and even you're probably aware of some of my oldest weaknesses. But I'm beginning to suspect that one's strengths and weaknesses may change with a person."
"Like how I changed when I got my powers?" Peter asked.
"Something like that."
"So, if you know your weaknesses, can't the other Avengers help you with them?"
"I wish," Tony sighed; "that's the thing, Peter. You shouldn't let people into the areas of your life you can't protect, especially if it's something or someone worth protecting."
Tony could see Peter considering this, the gears turning in his head as he tried to process the information.
Peter didn't understand where Tony was coming from, because from his perspective, the weakest point was exactly where you should put a batch of Earth's Mightiest Heroes.
"I'm sorry, I still don't see how this connects to me."
Tony looked Peter in the eye, and with all seriousness said, "I just want you to know that you're not a problem for me, nor a solution. I just like having you around, teaching you stuff. You're a smart kid."
Peter looked down, swallowing down his sudden feelings in an attempt to not tear up.
"I'm sorry," Peter repeated.
"No, I'm sorry, I should have done a lot of things better, and not just in the past two days. I'd also like it if you wanted to stop by tomorrow at some point."
Peter smiled; "that'd be great."
"Perfect." Tony stood up. "Thanks, kid."
"For what?"
Tony shrugged, "for talking. For listening. Take care."
And with that, Tony was gone.
Peter stood there with the bag in his hand and looked around the apartment. It seemed so much lonelier than it would have been had he just come back and been alone from the start.
He wished he could be transported into one of his aunt's warm hugs, the ones that wordlessly told him everything was going to be alright.
Peter laughed to himself and deducted he was starting to get lonely, not from lack of interaction but from missing his aunt's affectionate personality. Maybe family is the weakness I'm not willing to give up, he thought, before grabbing a snack and heading to his room to call Ned.
The drive back to the tower gave Tony a lot of time to think about some things he'd been avoiding, such as: Why did Tony reach out to the kid?
He suspected it was Tony liked Peter. Peter was such a likeable kid, so willing to learn, and Tony felt he could teach him what he wanted to know. And it's not like Peter was the only one benefiting from this ideal mentor/mentee relationship Tony imagined; Tony, in just three short days, had not only learned so much about himself, but also enjoyed himself. It was actually nice having a younger person around.
He himself had once had a mentor; he reflected on Obadiah- who turned out to be an back-stabbing (technically front-attacking) traitor- but before those days, he remembered how Tony had looked up to him.
Whatever his mentor had done, that was the way to do it.
What a mentor said was gold.
They were unstoppable. Magical. Miracles.
He couldn't remember the first time that awe-filled trust had been broken, probably sometime early by his father, but he remembered every time someone had broken it since.
His parents dying.
Obadiah taking Tony's life.
Steve almost doing the same.
Almost.
And now he was that person to someone, which was why he wanted to spend time with Peter, but also why he didn't. Part of him wanted to make plans to sign the future company over to Peter, but part of him wanted to follow that familiar urge to run and hide and change his identity and lose all the influence, authority, and liabilities he had acquired.
He'd asked for the responsibility of protecting a planet and had been handed real, live people instead. Who would have thought?
He determined to be the mentor his had failed to be.
A/N: The IronDad is hot like a heat yeeter! What are your thoughts?
Thank you for the support! I love writing for y'all!
