Altered State

Peter stared down at his phone, fingers tapping against his thigh as the bus drove him in the direction of the Tower, heart thrumming in his chest. There was no need to be nervous. He'd been to the Tower several times, mostly to have minor suit repairs or upgrades done, and it seemed like Mr. Stark was starting to get comfortable having him around. Like he actually liked having Peter nearby. He had started letting Peter help him in the lab, and even showing him how to fix various parts of the spider suit. A week ago, Mr. Stark had texted him, an actual text message, complete with a smiley face, letting him know that something important had come up and that he had to cancel their lab day, during which they were supposed to reinstall Peter's parachute, but that they'd reschedule soon.

He'd then sent a followup warning Peter not to climb anything higher than his own apartment building. Peter had immediately responded with three thumbs up emojis and a smiley face, to which he'd gotten the following reply.

"I mean it kid. Feet on the ground. I'm not risking you turning into a spider-pancake."

It had been six months since his homecoming dance. Six months since Mr. Stark had offered him a position on the Avengers, and since he'd turned him down. And Peter had thought that that would be it. That Mr. Stark wouldn't want to talk to him anymore. But then the man had invited him over to the Tower to fix his suit and to take a look at the minor stab wound that had caused the cut in his suit. Then he'd invited him down to the lab to help. And then, a few months later after almost-regular visits, when they worked late into the night, the man had offered to let him stay the night.

And then that had almost become their routine. Not every week. Not even every other week. But every month. And Mr. Stark had seemed to like having him around. Seemed to enjoy his company. It still felt awkward sometimes though, as though the man didn't really want him there. As though Peter was intruding, despite being invited.

Which is why he was surprised when he got a phone call the moment he stepped out of school, on his way to catch the bus to drop his things off at home before heading out to patrol Queens. The screen told him it was Mr. Stark, but when he answered, it was Miss Potts on the other line.

"Hi, Peter. I'm sorry to bother you. I was just wondering if you could do me a huge favor."

"Oh…". He had stopped in his tracks outside the school doors, nearly getting run over before he'd jumped to the side. "Uh...yeah! Of course, Miss Potts!"

"So Tony had to have some minor surgery today…"

"He is okay?" Peter had burst in, and Miss Potts had huffed out a laugh.

"He's fine. He had to have one of his wisdom teeth removed. But he'd been asking for you."

Peter had frozen then, eyes wide. "He...he was asking for me?"

"Yes." Her voice was wry. Almost amused. "The anesthesia and the pain meds...well, he's sort of...emotional at the moment. And I think he's worried about you."

"Worried about me?" Peter had asked, feeling like an echo.

"Yes. He really wants to speak to you, so if you could, would you mind stopping by the tower?"

He'd nodded, changing directions and heading for another bus stop as he'd held the phone to his ear. "Of course! I'm on my way."

And so, at the request of Miss Pepper Potts, Peter stepped out of the elevator of Avengers Tower and into the medbay, backpack thrown over his shoulder. The woman in question was waiting in the hallway and she smiled when she saw him, reaching out and resting a hand on his shoulder. "Thank you so much for coming, Peter. I'm sure you were busy."

"No, um...no, I'm not...I mean, I was just going to go patrolling but, uh…" He trailed off nervously and she laughed.

"Regardless, I really appreciate you coming by. Tony is in room 102. I have to run upstairs to finish a few things and make a call, but he's going to be really happy to see you."

That...that sounded nice, Peter thought as Pepper hurried past him into the elevator. Still, he didn't know if Mr. Stark was ever 'really happy' to see him. More than anything, Mr. Stark seemed to tolerate him. Like...not in a bad way. More like, Peter was a pet he hadn't really wanted, but now was stuck with. Just that thought hurt a little and Petr tried to shove it down. He was lucky that Mr. Stark had anything to do with him at all.

When he stepped into the doorway of Mr. Stark's hospital room, he was surprised at the pang in the pit of his stomach. The man was laying in a hospital bed, dressed in a t-shirt, blankets pulled up to his chest, eyes closed as he seemed to sleep. Peter froze. He looked...well...kind of old. And tired. He blinked, stepping hesitantly into the room and placing his backpack in the corner as quietly as he could. The man had asked for him. Had wanted to talk to him specifically. Maybe...maybe it was about Spider-Man? Had he maybe thought of a new suit upgrade? Or more webshooter combinations.

His mentor blinked up at the ceiling then, and Peter cleared his throat, deciding to seize the opportunity. "Uh...Mr. Stark?"

Mr. Stark's head whipped around, and he stared at Peter as if he'd never seen him before. But then the tension melted away from his face, his eyes softening, a smile like Peter had never seen spreading over his face. "Peter!" he cried, slurring a little, and Peter caught sight of the piece of cotton in his back of mouth.

"Hey, Mr. Stark." Peter smiled back, fidgeting with his hands. "Miss Potts said you wanted to talk to me. Are you feeling okay?"

"Peter...hey, come here," he urged, holding out a clumsy hand, and Peter edged forward a little, then came to stand beside the bed.

"Yeah?"

"You know...my dad...he...he sucked." Peter blinked, jaw dropping a little, but Mr. Stark kept going, that joyful smile still on his face. "He...he was bad. Really bad. He never told me...never said he loved me." The man slurred through his words, the cotton making it harder to understand, but Peter was able to follow just fine. And then he finished that thought. "But I love you so much."

Peter felt his heart stop, and it was as though the air was suddenly too thin, because his chest hurt from the lack of it.

"You're...you're so good, and you're so smart, and I'm so glad you're here."

Peter cleared his throat, glancing back at the door, ears hot. "Mr. Stark...I...I think you're uh...on, you know...really strong pain medicine."

"Come sit with me, Pete," the man urged, patting the blanket beside him, and, hesitantly, Peter sat on the bed. And then Mr. Stark was tugging on his arm, pulling him down to lay on the bed beside him, Mr. Stark's arm around him, his nose pressing into his hair. A hug. Mr. Stark was hugging him.

The feeling of it made tears spring to Peter's eyes and he took a shuddering breath, knowing that it was only because of the medicine. That otherwise, Mr. Stark would never be saying any of this. But, he reasoned, Mr. Stark wouldn't remember anyway. So he let himself say the words. "I love you too, Mr. Stark," He whispered, closing his eyes.

"I don't want to be like my dad," the man murmured.

Peter shook his head, swallowing hard and trying to hold back the tears. "You're not."

And then, the man's head dropped back onto the bed, and within seconds, he was snoring. Peter knew he should get up. He knew he should tell Miss Potts that Mr. Stark was fine and that he'd talked to him, and then he should leave. But Mr. Stark was holding him close, an arm wrapped around him, and he'd said that he loved him, and...and he was acting like his father. Like Ben had. Or like...like his dad. Like Richard, who he had so few memories of, but he remembered snuggling next to his dad before bed, his father reading him a bedtime story.

So he made a selfish decision. He closed his eyes and let himself be held and, just for a little while, pretended that Mr. Stark had meant it.

And then he dozed off.

Peter always had been good at pretending to sleep. It was a skill he'd perfected as a child, when his aunt or uncle would come in to check on him at night, and he'd quickly hide the flashlight and the book he'd been reading in bed, forcing his breath to even out and his face to remain slack and his shoulders to relax. After plenty of practice, he'd been able to food them almost every time, unless a giggle would force its way out of his mouth, and then his aunt or uncle would tickle him until he laughed, snatching the book and flashlight and giving him a quick kiss to the cheek.

"Go to sleep," they'd urge, sitting on the bed beside him and rubbing his back until he drifted off.

Now, pressed into Mr. Stark's side, with the man's arm around him, his face hidden by the pillow and the man's shoulder, he knew that his face wouldn't give him away. Still, he kept it calm. Tranquil. He forced his breathing to remain still and calm, and took deep, even breaths even after he'd woken up, realizing in surprise that he'd actually nodded off on the bed with Mr. Stark. And that the man was still holding him.

"Pep? What…" Mr. Stark slurred a little, and he felt the man shift. Peter remained where he was, and the man froze.

"How are you feeling?"

He felt the man do something, probably pulling the cotton out of his mouth, because when he spoke again his voice was clearer. "What's the kid doing here?" Mr. Stark didn't sound angry, which was good. Just confused.

"You asked for him," Miss Potts informed him, a laugh in her voice. "You kept asking me where 'the kid' was. Then you got upset when he wasn't here, so I figured I'd just ask him to come by."

"But...what about school?"

"He came by after school."

"But why…what did I say to him?"

Miss Potts hesitated and it took every ounce of self control for Peter to keep himself still and calm, his breathing deep and even as though he were asleep. No way he could face either of them right now. "Well...I was upstairs but according to Friday, you told him how much you loved him, and you asked him to sit with you. And then you pulled him into a hug and wouldn't let go.

"Oh, god…" the man groaned. "Pep…"

"Tony," she murmured, and he heard the woman move closer. "You can't tell me you didn't mean it."

"It's not...it's...the kid's probably freaked out now!"

"Tony, look at him. Does he look freaked out?"

Peter felt the eyes of the two adults and reminded himself again to take deep breaths. To be calm. To keep his face hidden. The last thing he wanted was to be caught now.

"He fell asleep? Is he sick or something?"

"I think he was just tired after school."

Mr. Stark was quiet for a moment, and then the arm that had been around his shoulders shifted, the hand resting on his back before patting him gently, rubbing circles over his back. "I was asking for him?"

"You were." There was a long pause, and then she spoke again. "It's not working, you know."

"What isn't working?"

"This. You. Trying to keep your distance."

He heard Mr. Stark swallow, and the arm tightened just a fraction around Peter's shoulders.

"He wants to be close to you, Tony. Anyone could see it. And you're nothing like your father. You want to be close to him too."

"What if I screw up?" Mr. Stark asked in a tone Peter had never heard from him.

"Then you apologize. And Peter will forgive you. And you move on." She sighed, then lowered her voice. "But this, what you're doing now, it's not good for either of you. He looks up to you so much, and you're the closest thing to a father figure he has. And I know that because May and I have been having brunch every other week."

"Since when?"

"Since two months ago when I asked her to meet me for brunch."

Mr. Stark huffed out a breath, but when he spoke, his voice was surprisingly vulnerable. "I don't know what I'm doing, Pep."

"Yes you do. You're already doing it. Spending time with him. Working with him in the lab. He loves doing those things with you. May said he looks forward to lab days all week."

"I don't want to hurt him," the man whispered, the hand rubbing his back.

"You won't. Not if you're honest with him. He loves you Tony. Let him in."

Peter stayed quiet and still, swallowing the tears of worry and the anxiety that threatened to swallow him. Mr. Stark loved him. He wanted to be his father figure or his mentor or something. And he wasn't drugged this time. So...so maybe he really meant it.

Several minutes passed, and Peter heard Miss Potts walk away and the door close, and then the hand on his back patted him, shaking him just a little.

"Huh?" Peter asked, pretending to wake up, and the man ruffled his hair.

"You gonna sleep all day, bud?"

"Hm?" Peter blinked, then jumped a little when he realized how close Mr. Stark was. He'd known, of course, but it was still surprising to see Mr. Stark's face so close, the man smiling gently down at him. "Mr. Stark? Oh...I fell asleep!" He started to sit up, ready to move away. Ready not to hope. Because there was no guarantee that the things weren't going to continue on as he had been.

But Mr. Stark just chuckled a little. "You did. And I'm the one who just had surgery. What's your excuse?" Despite Peter starting to set up, Mr. Stark held onto him.

"Are you okay?" Peter asked, changing the subject. He had been tired, mostly because he'd stayed up until 1 AM texting Ned. "Do you need, like...water or something?"

"I'm fine, kiddo. Pep checked in on me a few minutes ago. What about you? You feel okay?"

"Oh, yeah. I'm fine. Just, uh...I guess I was tired."

"Out late patrolling?"

"No!" Peter cried, shaking his head. "I was home by curfew."

The man chuckled. "I know you were, Pete." Mr. Stark ruffled his hair, then gave him a rueful smile. "So, apparently I demanded your presence while drugged."

Peter shrugged, flushing a little. "It was more like...requested."

He laughed again. "Well I'm glad I was at least polite about it."

"Miss Potts just asked me to stop by. Do, uh...do you want any water or anything?"

Mr. Stark patted his back, then nodded. "If you don't mind."

Peter jumped up, grabbing the cup and pitcher by the bedside, and as Peter poured, Mr. Stark spoke. "Pepper told me what I said to you."

He froze, then took a deep breath, setting the water pitcher down. "Oh."

"I'm sorry, Pete."

Peter glanced over, then held out the cup. "It's okay. I know you were on a lot of pain meds so…"

"I'm not sorry for what I said," the man interrupted, taking the glass, taking a swallow, then reaching out and patting the bed. Obligingly, Peter sat. "I know I mentioned my dad."

"You, uh...you said he sucked."

Mr. Stark barked out a laugh, then groaned, pressing a hand to his jaw and swearing. "Yeah. That's about right."

"And...and you said that he...that he never told you he loved you."

"That's right. He didn't. I don't think he ever even said he liked me. I think he did..." The man shrugged, then turned to look at Peter with that same, soft smile. "I didn't want you to wonder, Pete. I'm...I'm not very good at this. I've never mentored anyone or...or been a…" He cut himself off, biting his lip and shaking his head. "But it's different now. With you. You're such a great kid, Peter. A brilliant, good kid who got superpowers and decided to use them to help people. If I'd gotten superpowers at your age I would have…" He laughed to himself. "God knows what I would have done. Probably something to piss off my father. Just ask Rhodey."

Peter laughed, and the man patted his back. "All of that to say...I don't want to be like my father. And you deserve better than someone like my father. So...I'm sorry. I'm sorry it took me so long to tell you how much you meant to me. And I'm sorry that I'm probably going to be a really shitty mentor sometimes."

"You won't," Peter cut in, shaking his head, and Mr. Stark huffed out a laugh.

"Agree to disagree." He clapped his hands. "So. Anyway. Here's what we're going to do. Official internship. Every week. You get a certificate and everything. Lab nights. Training. Whatever you want. Okay?"

"I...that sounds great, Mr. Stark, but you don't have to…"

The man held up a hand. "I want to. Really. It's about time we made your internship official. Now. I have a mission for you."

Peter stiffened, nodding immediately. "Oh...okay."

Mr. Stark's whole face softened, eyes crinkling at the corners. "Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to sneak two milkshakes into this room…"

"I don't think you're allowed to drink through a straw after…" Peter started before being cut off.

"Two milkshakes and a spoon, and then, we are going to watch a movie and ask May if you can stay over, since it's Friday, and we can start your internship tomorrow."

"Are you sure? I mean...if you want to sleep or something...since you just had surgery…"

"Pete?" Peter shut up, pressing his lips together. "I'm probably going to be doing some sleeping at some point. Probably during the movie. But it's like I said. I love you. You're...you're like my kid. And I want to spend the day with you tomorrow. If you want."

"Oh…" He stared at his lap for a moment, face hot, then he smiled shyly up at Mr. Stark. "Chocolate or vanilla?"

"Strawberry. Large. And take your backpack. There's a twenty in my wallet on the table."

"Do you think I can sneak them past Miss Potts in my backpack?"

Mr. Stark ruffled his hair. "I'm counting on it."

Thank you for reading!