Chapter 5: I'm fine, so quit asking!

Harley's POV:

I arrived home from another grueling day of school and tentatively stepped out of the elevator, letting out a relieved sigh when I didn't see anyone. Throwing my backpack to the ground, I asked Friday where Tony was, planning on staying as far away from the hovering man as possible.

"Boss is in his room packing," the AI answered promptly, and both my eyebrows rose, a small smile forming on my face. Pepper was gone on a business trip, and if Tony was packing then that meant he was going on a trip. This would mean that I'd be home alone with nobody to haggle me about my feelings.

It'd been about a week and a half since I kicked Flash's ass and Tony and I had a heart to heart. My cheeks burned red in remembrance. I couldn't believe I'd whined to Tony like some sniveling baby. What must he think of me? Why would he want to keep a kid who couldn't even control his emotions?

Jeez, and I can't believe I'd cried! Thank god I got him to stop the conversation when I did or I would've probably started bawling next, and I never would've lived that down, I thought in embarrassment.

I threw myself down on the living room couch, and stared up at the high ceiling, rolling my eyes when I spotted some strands of web and footprints.

Tony was different, I couldn't help but think, frowning as I recalled him pulling me in for a hug. It wasn't bad different, I guess, but it was a bit unsettling.

He was softer, less sarcastic, and…nicer? I mean, he'd always been nice to me, but in a smart-ass way, which has never bothered me as I'm the same way. I tease him and he teases back. I'd give him a hard time, and he'd affectionately call me a "little shit head". It was our thing, and I loved it.

Since I started living wit him, though, he'd been downright gentle with me. Not as much teasing or name-calling. He didn't razzle me like he used to. I felt like he was babying me, and I hated it. Did I really look so pathetic that he had to treat me like a little kid? How long until he grew tired of me?

I mean, it was nice at times. Talking had been a little helpful, and the hug had been comforting…but I was too old for that stuff. I shouldn't need to talk about my feelings or be hugged and comforted. I had to be independent.

"Harls!" I heard Tony yell out, and I held back a groan as I sat up.

"Yeah?" I asked warily, hoping he wasn't going to push me to talk again.

"I hate to say this, but I need you to pack a bag," he announced, looking a little frazzled.

I froze, blood running cold as I looked at him with wide eyes. Was this it? Was he kicking me out? My heart thundered in my chest, and I fought hard to swallow the panic I was feeling.

"Uh, where am I going?" I questioned, unable to hide my concern.

It was obvious Tony heard it, because his eyebrows scrunched in sudden confusion before he seemed to realize something.

"Oh, shit," he muttered to himself. "No, bud, it's not—I'm not kicking you out or anything. I've got to leave for Avengers crap, and Peter's aunt, May, has agreed to let you stay with her for a week or so," he informed me, and I immediately felt myself relaxing.

He's not getting rid of me. He's not tired of me yet. I felt my racing heart beginning to slow, and that's when I realized what he'd just said. He wanted me to stay with Peter. Peter Parker. Perfect Peter Parker. For a whole damn week. He could not be serious.

"Tony, come on," I argued, "I'm fifteen. I don't need a babysitter. I can take care of myself just fine. I mean, I did live on the streets for a whole month just fine."

"Okay, one, talking about being homeless will never be a good argument," Tony retorted, "and two, fifteen is not old enough to stay home alone for a week. Please don't fight me on this, Harls, I've really got to get going, and this isn't up for argument," the man pleaded, and it was only the desperation in his eyes that kept me from continuing to argue.

"Fine," I grumbled, heading to my room to pack. This was going to be awful, I couldn't help but think. Living for a whole week with Peter was going to be torture.

Be nice, I scolded myself, as I stuffed clothes into a bag. He's really not that bad.

I let out a sigh as I headed out of my room to where Tony was waiting. He gave me a smile before leading me down to the garage and his car.

"You don't have to drop me off," I protested. "I can"—

"You've never been to Pete's house, and I want to talk with May before I go," Tony interjected, eliciting another sigh from me. Pulling out headphones, I slipped them on and turned on a random song, hoping he wouldn't bother me.

I wondered how it'd be living with Peter. Hopefully, he wouldn't bother me much, but that was unlikely. I really didn't get why he tried so hard to be friendly with me when I hadn't tried really hard to hide my annoyance with him. Except when around Tony, I ignored and barely spoke to him.

He wasn't a bad guy, per se, but…okay, if I was being honest, Peter seemed like a fun person. I just couldn't bring myself to be nice to him because he was threatening my existence!

Fine, existence was an exaggeration, but his relationship with Tony was making things difficult. Why would Tony keep me when he had Peter? Peter, who had a guardian and only visited for fun. Peter, who was a superhero and a genius. Peter, who had been through his own trauma, but seemed to be doing just fine. I never saw Tony asking Peter if he was okay or if he needed to talk. Peter didn't stress everybody out.

Stupid, perfect spider-boy.

We pulled up to a curb outside an old, unkept looking building. I raised an eyebrow wondering why Peter and his aunt were in such a cruddy looking place. Tony loved showering people he cared about with money, so I was surprised he hadn't moved them somewhere nicer. Maybe they hadn't accepted? Peter did seem to have a hard time accepting any gifts or money from Tony.

Walking up three flights of stairs because the elevator was broken, we arrived at apartment 33. Tony knocked, and in less than three seconds, the door was opened by a good-looking woman. She was Peter's aunt?

She invited us in, and introduced herself, her hand held out.

Putting on a charming grin, I shook her hand while saying, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Parker, and can I just say, you are the hottest aunt I have ever met. How exactly did you end up with such a nerdy looking ne—Hey! Watch the hair!" I yelled out after Tony had smacked the back of my head.

"Control your mouth, Gremlin, and behave yourself," the engineer scolded, looking rather exasperated.

"I'll be an absolute angel, I promise," I assured him, sporting an innocent smile.

Loud laughter garnered out attention, and I felt flattered when May said, "Tony Stark, why didn't you tell me you had a son?" She really thought I was Tony's son?

"Oh, no," Tony instantly responded, shaking his head negatively. "This little brat is not mine, thank god," he joked, patting my back.

I gave a laugh, even though inside I felt no humor. His words had hurt. He'd said thank god, like he was happy I wasn't his. Did this mean he didn't want me? Would he realize how much better things were without me this next week? Would he be ready to get rid of me when he came back?

Maybe I should have just talked to him. That's what he wanted, right?

Jeez, this was driving me mad! When would I know what was going to happen to me? Why couldn't he just tell me whether he wanted me or not? Why didn't I just ask?

The adults exchanged some words, Tony thanking May for taking care of me before warning me once more to behave myself. I rolled my eyes, he said goodbye, and then he was gone.

A lump formed in my throat as I stared at the closed door, and I had to fight the sudden crazy urge to run after him. Couldn't he have taken me with him? Did he really have Avengers work, or was he just lying? What if he left and never came back?

My heart began to pound once more, and I was so focused on the door that I jumped when I felt a soft hand land on my shoulder. Whirling around, I shot May a forced smile.

"Are you alright?" she asked in concern, and I quickly nodded my head.

"Of course!" I responded with mock enthusiasm. "So, uh, where am I going to be sleeping?" I questioned, wanting her to not push.

May smiled kindly as she led me down a single hallway and opened the door at the end. The room was clearly Peter's, movie and science posters lining the walls, legos and old computer parts on the floor and his desk. There was also a bunk bed, and I inwardly groaned. I was going to have to share with Peter? I'd rather sleep on the couch.

"I'm sorry," May spoke apologetically, "but there are only two bedrooms. I know you must be used to so much more living with Tony"—she attempted to explain, but I gave her an appreciative grin.

"Don't worry at all, Mrs. Parker," I assured her. "I shared a room with my sister until…well, I grew up in a small house, so I have no problem sharing. If Peter has a problem, though, I wouldn't mind at all sleeping on the couch."

"Oh, no, Peter was very excited to learn you were staying over," May stated, and I wasn't sure if she was telling me the truth or not. "I did ask him to clean his room, though, but—well, boys," she sighed with a shrug. "By the way, please call me May."

I nodded before walking into the room, setting my bag down, and looking around awkwardly. How as I going to pass the time? There was no lab here for me to work in, no Natasha to train with, and no arcade games for me to fix. All I had was my drawing pad.

"Peter is on his way home," May stated. "I've told him that he's going to have to cut down on his hero thing while you're here, so you're not alone for so long."

"You didn't have to do that," I stated honestly. "I have no problem entertaining myself, and I promise not to destroy your home. I really don't want you having to go out of your way to accommodate me."

"You're sweet," she responded, "but it's no trouble, I assure you. Now, make yourself at home while I attempt to whip up some dinner."

"Let me help," I rushed to say, having heard from Peter about her less than stellar cooking abilities. "I used to cook all the time at home," I told her, and she looked somewhat relieved as she accepted.

Peter arrived home through the window right as we were finishing up. Pulling his mask off, he grinned widely at us.

"Hey, sorry I'm late, but there was"—

"Superhero stuff, I know," May replied, managing to sound both proud and weary at the same time.

Peter's smile faltered a little, turning apologetic before his eyes settled on me.

"Hey, Harley, how you doing?" he asked nicely.

"I'm good," I answered evenly. "I helped your aunt cook dinner, so if you're hungry…," I trailed off, knowing he had to be starving. Tony had explained the hero's super-fast metabolism, and how he constantly was eating. I, myself had witnessed it at the tower. Tony had snacks and drinks stashed all over the tower, and if he didn't feel Peter was eating enough, he'd throw him a power bar or a protein shake. Peter always looked back at Tony with such awe and gratefulness, as if he still couldn't believe that Tony cared about him.

That drove me mad. Peter continued to act like he wasn't aware of how much he meant to Tony, when it was so obvious to me. Tony was always raving about Peter when he wasn't around, and when he was around, Tony was always taking care of him. He took care of his injuries, fed him, gave him tons of suit updates and new tech, gave him new clothes, and pretty much he did anything Peter needed.

To top it all off, he was so affectionate with Peter. I remembered when I first met Tony, and he'd shoved me away for standing too close. With Peter, though, he was always ruffling his hair, patting his back, and wrapping an arm around him. A couple times I'd walked by them when they were watching a movie to see Peter laying with his head in Tony's lap!

It boggled my mind that Tony not only allowed this but seemed to initiate it as well. Human touch wasn't something I craved. My family hadn't been the hugging and coddling type. We loved each other, but we showed it through teasing and playing around with one another.

Why was I so jealous of Peter, then? I didn't want to be coddled like him, did I? I didn't need the hugs or pats on the back or the constant praise. I just—I just wanted…what did I want?

Peter ran to his room and back in under a minute, sporting Hello Kitty pajama bottoms and one of his famous science pun t-shirts. I raised an amused eyebrow at him as I gave his pants a pointed look. Blushing somewhat, Peter informed me of how he'd gotten them, and when I found out it was Tony who'd given them to him, I no longer found it so funny.

Dinner was filled with Peter's voice, regaling us with his Spider-man exploits. Once again, my jealousy surged. What I would give to have his abilities. To have super strength and the ability to stick to walls. To be able to help people. To be a hero like Tony. Then, everything would be perfect.

When dinner ended, we all worked to clean up, and then I followed Peter into his room.

"Do you want the top or bottom bunk?" he asked.

"Bottom," I answered, and he nodded.

We both stood here awkwardly, and I suddenly wondered if he was as oblivious to my dislike of him as I thought.

"Er, so what do you do for fun?" the teen asked nervously. "I know you're not much into TV or movies. I've got some old computers that we could work on, or legos." He finished with a sheepish smile, and I felt my previous anger softening. It was hard to stay upset with someone so nice.

"Let's take a look at those computers," I stated, eliciting a relieved smile from Peter.

Living with the Parkers wasn't as stressful as I thought it'd be. They were both really easy going, and they went out of their way to make sure I was comfortable. Even though May had said Peter wouldn't go out as Spider-man much, I'd argued on his behalf, urging Peter to go out. I knew if I were him I'd want to spend as much time as possible helping people.

While Peter went out, I got to know May more. I didn't realize until the week was mostly over that she'd cut hours from work to ensure that I'd never be alone. I'll admit to being extremely touched, but also guilty.

May was an amazing woman. She was so kind, understanding, and motherly. She seemed to love running a hand through my hair, laughing when I complained about her messing it up. We spent time playing board games, talking, and watching TV. I wasn't much of a tv or movie fan, but that was because I'd never had time to watch. When I wasn't in my lab, at school, or taking care of my sister, I was doing odd jobs around the town to earn what money I could for my family. Watching with May, though, was fun.

Our talks were usually light, me asking about her life and then her asking me about my past. She wanted to know what Tennessee was like, what my life had been like, and how I'd met Tony. She'd been shocked, amused, and horrified by the story, cursing Tony before telling me how Peter and Tony had met.

Except for the one night I'd woken up screaming from a nightmare, she'd never pushed me to talk, or asked how I was handling everything. I was grateful.

While my time here was more enjoyable than I thought, I still missed Tony and even Pepper desperately. I'd spoken with both of them, each time feeling deep relief when they assured me they'd be back soon. The day they told me they'd both be home I was overjoyed, unable to stop from giving both adults a large grin.

They weren't abandoning me! They weren't getting rid of me!

I was so ecstatic, that I'd even impulsively hugged Tony when he'd come to pick me up. I'd immediately regretted the childish action, but since my face was so red I'd held on longer than I wanted to in order to hide my embarrassment.

Tony's POV:

As exhausted as I was, I couldn't help but feel renewed when I felt Harley's arms wrap around me. This was the first time he'd initiated a hug since the day he showed up, and I couldn't help but see it as progress.

"Hey, bud," I greeted cheerfully, "ready to head home?"

"Definitely!" the boy replied with a large grin, which faltered when he looked back at May and Peter. "Not that I didn't have a lovely time, May, but"—

May laughed away the boy's hasty explanation. "I understand, Harley," she stated, coming over and pulling the rascal in for a hug. "It was a pleasure having you. Feel free to stop by whenever you'd like."

I thanked May profusely, telling her we'd catch up later. I then bid the spiderling goodbye, inviting him over tomorrow before taking my young tech whiz home.

The drive home was spent with Harley telling me what he'd been up to. I was happy that he seemed to get along well with May, and that she'd been able to get Harley to do something other than work and draw. I was disappointed, though, that he hadn't really spent much time with Peter. Did they not like each other? I'd never noticed any tension between the two, but I guess I hadn't been looking for it either. The kids had so many similarities, I figured they'd be best buds. They went to the same school, hung out at home, and had now lived together for a week, yet Harley barely ever mentioned Peter. It was concerning.

We reached home the same time Pepper pulled in, and before I could even greet her, her arms were wrapped around me.

"Two weeks away is far too long," she complained, giving me a quick kiss on the lips, no doubt aware of the young eyes watching us. "Remind me to never agree to that long of a work trip."

"Happily," I replied with a smile, letting her go so she could pull Harley in for a hug. The teen looked surprised, but quickly overcame it, blushing as he returned her hug.

"I missed you, sweetie," Pepper stated, and Harley's cheeks reddened even more, an unidentifiable emotion entering his eyes as he replied somewhat emotionally, "Missed you too."

Grinning widely, I put an arm around both of them as we took the elevator up to our floor.

"I say we order in tonight and just relax," I stated, and Pepper let out a contented sigh as she pulled off her high heels.

"That sounds wonderful," she spoke with a happy sigh. "Let me take a shower, and then we can talk about what we all did this past week."

"Sounds good to me," I replied. "Harls?"

"Yeah, sounds good," he responded, and I was gratified to see a genuine smile rather than a forced one on his young face.

"Maybe you can teach us one of those card games you played with May," I suggested, feeling joy when Harley nodded in agreement.

The rest of the day passed by too quickly, but it was the best evening I'd had in a while. There were no distractions. It was just the three of us, junk food, a roaring fire, background music, and a deck of cards. We played various games, all of us winning some. As we played we talked about what we'd been up to, my shenanigans taking up most the time.

I loved this. The three of us here being a family. It was pleasant, and I suddenly found myself longing for more moments like this.

Not for the first time did I contemplate leaving the city and buying a plot of land in the middle of nowhere. I could take Pepper and Harley and we could just live our lives like regular people, away from the hustle and bustle of city life. I could retire for reals and Pepper could cut down on her duties. We could focus on helping Harley more, and maybe even have a kid of our own.

This fantasy seemed to settle in the back of my mind, reality always pushing it away. Or, specifically, Peter. I couldn't leave Peter. His life was here, so I couldn't take him with me, and if he and May couldn't come with me, then I would stay.

Responsibility was the next thing keeping me here. Those goddamn Accords put me in charge of the Avengers. I was now responsible for the world's safety, and for figuring out some way of getting the Rogues home.

Pepper and Harley gave a delighted laugh, and I focused once more on the present. I'd worry about everything else later. Right now, I'd simply enjoy the moment.

Days passed, and with it the blissfulness of that first night back. Every time I thought Harley was doing better, it seemed like there was a set-back. He wasn't sleeping again, nightmares waking him or keeping him from sleeping. Every time he got up, I got up, and I just brought the kid down to the lab.

We worked together in silence, and once I noticed the tension leave his shoulders, I'd start a conversation. I'd always start out casual before attempting to broach what was keeping him up. Each time I'd be shut down and so I'd back off.

With both of us losing sleep, I suppose it was only natural that things would come to a head. Yesterday, I was pulled from one of the few board meetings I attended to go and pick up Harley. He'd gotten into a shouting match with his robotics teacher, which had ended with Harley cursing the man out, knocking everything off his lab table, and storming out of the room. A passing teacher who'd heard the commotion had stopped Harley from leaving the school, dragging him to the principal's office.

When I'd arrived at the school and entered the principal's office, I was greeted with a fuming teenager, outraged teacher, and exasperated principal. Internally groaning, I sat myself next to Harley, gripping his knee to silence him as I listened to his robotics teacher.

After hearing what the temperamental teen said, I couldn't stop from giving him a disappointed look. Like the fight with Flash, this seemed to be another instance of Harley overreacting to a situation. Yes, his teacher sounded a bit pompous, and probably didn't appreciate being corrected by Harley, but that didn't give the kid a reason to belittle the man in front of the entire class.

After the teacher finished speaking, all eyes turned to Harley, awaiting his side of the story, but he refused to speak. He simply glared down at his knees.

"Harley," I addressed sternly, "now would be a good time to explain yourself." Petulant green eyes locked on mine, and I frowned deeply, knowing that he wasn't going to speak.

Taking in a deep breath to calm my own anger, I turned towards both adults, apologizing for Harley's behavior. Neither one seemed satisfied, their eyes constantly flicking to the sulking teen next to me. I couldn't blame the principal when he handed out Harley's punishment, three days suspension followed by two weeks detention.

The second his sentence was given Harley was out of his seat and out of the door. I called out to him, but he ignored me and simply walked out of the school in the direction of my car. Anger building, I felt my face flushing in embarrassment as all eyes turned towards me. I could see their judgment, and that concerned me.

"Mr. Stark," the principal spoke disapprovingly, "I will be in contact with child services. I'm concerned that Harley's placement with you may not be in his best interest. Clearly you're out of your league"—

I cut the man off with a cold look and found some satisfaction in seeing him pale. "You don't know a thing about what Harley has been through, so you have no right to judge," I spoke in a hard tone. "Call child services if you want, but I will fight for that boy tooth and nail. I guarantee you no one will try as hard as I am to take care of him." With those words, I left, scolding myself for letting my temper get the best of me.

I took several calming breaths, but my temper continued to simmer, especially when I saw Harley give me an impatient look as I neared the car. Gritting my teeth, I got in, slamming the door shut before peeling out of the parking lot.

"Well, somebody seems angry," Harley remarked sarcastically, and I shot him a frigid look before replying just as sarcastically, "Well, gee, I wonder why that would be."

The brat just smirked, and I bit down on my tongue to keep from saying something regretful. Don't be like Dad, I repeated over and over in my head. He always let his anger get the best of him, saying things that tore down my self-worth.

I turned the radio on while Harley put headphones on. I noticed they weren't turned on, but I was grateful for the reprieve. By the time we got home, I once more felt calm.

Stepping out of the elevator, I ordered Harls to sit himself down at the kitchen table. I debated whether I should remain standing or seated, and settled for sitting down next to him, both our chairs turned so we were looking at each other.

"Explain," I demanded firmly, my tone leaving no room for argument.

Harley's gaze was petulant again as he stared up at me, and it almost looked like he was going to refuse when he opened his mouth.

"My teacher said it all," he stated with an uncaring shrug. "Guy was an arrogant ass who didn't like it when I corrected him. He insulted me, so I insulted him back. Not my fault I've got the more creative language," he finished with a cocky smirk that had me gritting my teeth.

"Or maybe it's because he's an adult and mature enough not to curse out a student," I retorted, jaw clenching when I received another uncaring shrug.

I had to sit back and once more fight to rein in my simmering temper. The lack of sleep recently was catching up causing my control to slip. I was conscientious enough, though to realize that Harley was no doubt suffering from the same problem. His eyes were a dull green color with dark circles under them, reminding me of the internal turmoil he was going through.

"Dammit, Gizmo," I expressed in frustration, leaning back in my chair as I ran a hand through my hair. "I'm feeling completely out of my depth here, and I need your help. I thought we'd gotten past this weeks ago, but you've shut me out since we last talked, and I'm once again not giving you an out. We are going to sit here until you tell me about your nightmares."

"What the fuck do my nightmares have to do with what happened at school?" Harley exclaimed in outrage, and I slammed a hand down onto the table, causing him to jump in shock.

"Watch your language," I growled, in no mood to be disrespected by him. "Your nightmares keep you from sleeping. Lack of sleep makes you tired. Being tired leads to your temper tantrums. Hence, talking about nightmares will lessen nightmares and thus lessen the temper tantrums. Now, speak," I ordered, my eyes boring into him.

"No," Harley replied, making to stand up. I stopped that motion, though, when I stood up faster, placing my hands on the armrests of his seat.

"Try again," I spoke sternly, furious and shocked by his outright refusal. I didn't ask much of this kid, but I damn well expected to be obeyed when I did.

"No," Harley hissed again, his face a mask of fury.

I swallowed, hands fingernails digging into the wood of the arm rests as I swallowed an automatic retort. No yelling. Don't be like Dad. Take time to calm down.

"You're grounded," I informed him, and his eyebrows rose in surprise.

"You are confined to your room except for meal times," I continued. "No lab time, no training with Natasha, and no going to the arcade."

The teen's face turned red with anger as he ground out, "How long?"

"A month," I responded, feeling some satisfaction at his widening eyes.

"That's ridiculous!" he shouted in outrage. "You're grounding me for a month because I won't tell you about my nightmares? When did you turn into such a dictator?"

"I'm grounding you for your behavior at school and for your continued disrespect," I corrected with forced calm, releasing my hold on the arm rests to stand up and cross my arms.

Harley immediately got to his feet, his fists clenched as he snapped, "You have no right to ground me or force me to do anything! You're not my dad!"

I felt stung by his words, so I lashed out, "You're right, I'm not, because I'm actually here unlike that deadbeat who left you!"

Harley's face went white, and my anger immediately vanished, guilt replacing it. Damn it, damn it, damn it, I thought, furious with myself for the loss of control.

"Harls," I addressed, "I'm sor"—

"Forget it," the kid stated bitterly. "I'm going to my room."

I couldn't bring myself to stop him, too ashamed of my words to say anything. I'd have to wait for his temper to calm before I could properly apologize.

I threw myself down into the chair, burying my head in my hands.

What the hell was I doing?

How was I going to fix this?

What was I going to do about child services if they investigated this? How could I convince them that I was a suitable guardian when I couldn't even get the kid to talk to me?

I'm failing. I'm failing him like my own father failed me.

I felt sick to my stomach and was horrified as I felt tears welling up in my eyes. I couldn't remember the last time I'd felt so helpless. I was losing Harley, and that terrified me. What would happen to him if I couldn't get him to open up?