"-past ten, and Happy's gone who knows where. Get your stuff." Tony ordered, closely focused on his faceplate that he was fixing.

Peter frowned, adjusting his half-finished upgraded webbing. "It's Friday, come on!" He complained, shooting a web past Tony, who gave him a brief glare before looking back down.

"Your aunt-"

"She said I could stay." Peter interrupted quickly, squinting at his wrist and pulling at the bracelet.

"Well, I don't believe you." Tony said instantly, putting down his tools and facing Peter finally. "Time to get going." He walked up to a struggling Peter and pressed down on the bracelet. It snapped open and Peter looked up at him. "Peter."

He looked back down and fumbled with his fingers, "I don't-you said I can always stay here if I want and-"

"Hey, I'm not kicking you out, what's up?"

"Nothing, noth-I'm-I'll go." Peter replied, hopping off the table he was on to be stopped by Tony, who held out his arm as if he was stopping a child.

"It's not realistic. Peter, he can't get out." Tony explained, watching as Peter pursed his lips and looked away. "I've told you this before. Pretty much everyday for the last week." He said quietly, but Peter didn't seem to be listening.

"You don't know that." He said, knowing the answer he was going to get was "don't worry", which was why for this week, he'd kept this thought suppressed.

"I do! It's his people trying to scare you." Tony argued.

Peter was slumped back against the bench and practically ignoring everything Tony was saying, which Tony picked up on.

"Peter, are you even listening?"

Peter exhaled and looked up at him. "Yeah, I'm super safe." He said sarcastically, reaching for his bag that was behind him.

"You are. He's gone, and he won't be back any time soon-"

"He's seen me!" Peter said, his voice raising in panic. "He knows my name, he knows where I live-"

"Woah, woah." Tony raised his hand to calm Peter down, "it's been a year, if he wanted to tell someone, he would've told someone." Tony reassured him.

"Well, a year ago I wasn't getting threatening texts." Peter countered, "I don't know what to do." He ran his hand through his hair in worry and Tony sighed.

"It was two texts, and we traced them, and told you it was nothing."

"I don't care!" Peter yelled, "May's home or at work alone most of the day, and Ned-and-and me! I'm-"

"Okay. Listen, if you feel better staying here then you stay here." Tony interrupted again, it was getting late, and telling Peter to calm down was only making him more agitated.

He contemplated it before shaking his head, "no, no, I don't feel-I need to...get home." Peter said quietly, throwing his bag on his shoulder and making his way past Tony.

"I'll drop you off." Tony offered, walking closely behind his pacing mentee.

"No."

"No? It's 9:45, I'm not letting you-"

Peter stopped walking and turned to face Tony, which threw him off track. "I don't want you to. Okay? Right now, I don't...", he trailed off and saw that his interruption and statement hurt Tony, but it was true. What he wanted to say was you're not my dad, because it annoyed him how Tony reminded him of that sometimes.

"Peter-"

"You said it. I'll be fine. I don't need you." Peter cut in again, leaving Tony clenching his fists and standing in the doorway as he stormed off like the typical angry teenager.

"Seemed a little harsh." A voice said, and Tony turned to see Pepper standing at the end of the opposite corridor.

"I was trying...to help." Tony replied, quietly mumbling the last part in his defence.

"I was talking about him." She smiled, making her way down with a clipboard in hand. "You spoiled him."

"He's not-that's not what he is." Tony muttered, rubbing his temple as she approached. "He's scared."

"Of?"

"Of-"

A ringing cut in and Tony rolled his eyes, "Friday, take a message." He ordered, following Pepper out of his workshop.

"Give him a day." She suggested, turning to face him briefly as she strolled along. "You know this is the first time I haven't asked you to leave that place and you did." She added with a laugh.

"That's not-that's a lie." He said with a small smile, fumbling with the screwdriver he was still carrying.

"Really? You don't even leave sometimes. It's not healthy."

"You don't know what healthy is. The definition of healthy is doing things that make you happy." Tony answered, watching as Pepper looked at him with an annoyed and confused look.

"That's not...not even close to what it means-"

"If you're trying to make me go back-"

"Really? That's funny." Pepper interrupted as they entered the main area. Her phone rang and she answered, walking towards the kitchen while he put the screwdriver on a side table

"Yeah, I will, thanks for calling." Pepper said, ending her conversation just a few seconds after it had started and looking up at Tony from behind the sofa now.

He raised his eyebrows and waited for her to talk. "Did you accidentally sell the company or something? Because that's how scared you look."

"No." She scoffed lightly, "it was Rhodey, he said some guy called Adrian Toomes escaped from prison an hour ago." She said it more like a question though, because she had no idea who that was.

Tony glared at her for another few seconds before loosening his tie and rushing back to where he'd just come from, with Pepper yelling something in the back.

"Call Peter, Friday, and get me a location. Verify the source." He ordered as soon as he got to his workshop. He scrambled hurriedly into his seat.

"On it, sir."

Pepper watched his eyes dart across the screen and stood next to him in confusion. "What is going on? Who is that?" She asked, throwing her hands in the air.

"Hello?" A voice echoed through the intercom, and Tony looked up and sighed in relief. He could breathe.

"Parker, where are you?"

"I'm-wait a second-", he stopped talking and Tony glanced at Pepper. "I'm home." He stated, mumbling something afterwards.

"What's wrong? And why can't I-is your phone tracker off?"

"You're 'tracking' me? Why are-okay, Mr Stark, could you just hold on?"

"I asked what's wrong." Tony ignored his request.

"May's not opening the door and the key...not working...why isn't...", he trailed off and there was the jingling of his keys and an irritated mutter.

"Get out. Peter, get out!" Tony yelled, and Peter said a "what" in response.

"Tony, what the hell are you saying!" Pepper interrupted, getting a glare from Tony, who continued to shout.

"I don't understand-"

He was cut off by a huge smashing sound from the other line. Peter?" Tony said with a frown.

"Line disconnected." Friday informed, and went on to say something about calling again, but Tony was in his suit by then and making his way out as soon as he could.

"I have to-"

"Go." Pepper smiled through her concern.

He took off within seconds.

And that was short of a few minutes of how long it took to get there. Tony landed with a stumble outside the apartment building, which was much busier than he expected. Sirens were blaring, there were police cars everywhere, and a lot of disoriented people.

He eyed the building before barging past the shouting officers and heading upstairs. He stopped when he reached Peter's floor and their non-existent door.

"Peter!" He shouted, making his way inside and clenching his jaw when he took a look around. There were things all of the floor, notably shattered glass, the door, and the back of May.

May, who was facing the opposite way with one hand on her head as she cried in despair.

Tony clenched his jaw, "May." He said in a quiet voice, and she broke out of her trance and quickly turned around. There was a clear look of disappointment like she was expecting it to be someone else. Expecting it to be Peter.

She stared with tears in her eyes and down on her cheek and shook her head, "where is he?" She asked through a cry, "tell me where he is." She said again a little louder when he didn't reply.

"I'll find him." Tony said in a serious and assuring tone. "Maybe he's-", he stopped and clenched his jaw. No, there wasn't any other explanation. He knew what had happened here. He couldn't stop staring at the little bit of blood around the middle of the room.,

"This is on you. If you don't get him back...", she shook her head as she said the statement in a threatening tone.

"Tell me what happened." Tony said, stepping out of the suit in defeat.

Peter frowned at Tony's 'request', "I don't understand-"

Something struck him from behind with such force that it sent him flying against, and then through, the door, which broke off inside.

His ears were ringing and there was a shooting and fierce pain in his back and head. He struggled to breathe as he tried to get up. He could see the wooden floorboards and the leg of their dinner table in the corner of his eyes.

He turned his head as best he could and saw a figure dressed in black approaching. His vision was slightly blurred but he could make out a long, thick rod swinging around in the air, which the figure swung a few times before it hit Peter's head.

He woke to a stinging pain in his head that resembled a migraine, but that wasn't what bothered him at that moment. It was the spiralling vision and the fact that he couldn't move himself.

"-want to do it! Is he serious, right now?" A voice bellowed as Peter stared hazily at his arm, which numbly laid in front of him on the ground.

He heard an angry sigh followed by what sounded like a kick. "This is just great." Another voice shouted sarcastically.

When he finally felt like he could move, he fidgeted backwards and rolled sideways onto his back.

The voices stopped and within seconds, he felt rough hands claw into his shoulders from behind and drag him across the peeling wooden floor.

"He's awake." Someone said, and then there was a whispery murmur that carried regret. "Are you sure about this? He's not here yet."

"Boss man asked you to kidnap a tween?" A younger more arrogant voice asked with a laugh. "What the hell is this?"

Peter was trying his best to match voices to faces, but it was impossible. He couldn't see properly, and the voices were echoing in his ears - he just wanted to sleep at that moment.

He squinted when a jolt of pain struck the back of his head, where he was sure he'd been hit. A hand wrapped around his neck and he was pushed back against something hard and metal. He nearly cried out when his head hit, because he was sure these guys had cracked something.

"Before we-" the voice cut off and his ears practically blacked out. He saw the man's mouth moving but no sound. Am I deaf? I'm deaf. I'm gonna die a -"yourself? Just tell me." The man said in a suspiciously nice tone. Not deaf.

"Wh-what?" Was all Peter managed to say, and that was all it took to anger the man in front of him, who brought up his fist for a punch. Peter closed his eyes in immediate fear as he waited.

"Hey!" Now that was a familiar voice. He opened his eyes and could make out someone standing in the corner. It happened. That was the Vulture, and they were going to kill him. He was going to die an hour after Tony had told him that this would never happen.

"Drop him." Toomes ordered, and as soon as the man pushing Peter back took his hand off of his chest, he slid down onto the floor.

He clutched the back of his head, and he could feel it wet and sticky with blood, but refused to move his hand. It felt better knowing he was trying, at least, to relieve the pain. He looked to his right to see Liz's dad shake his head and walk up to him in disappointment. Liz's dad, he thought, this man was far from a 'dad', but for some reason, that was all that came to mind when he saw him.

"I told you to let it go." He said in an eerily similar tone that he'd used in the car a year ago.

Peter took an uneven breath of air and felt tears build up, "and I didn't." He stated.

"You know, everyone there was certain I knew you." He said with a humourless laugh, "and I said no. Only for one reason." He finished, not bothering to actually say the reason, because they both knew what it was.

Peter didn't say anything. He just stared at the towering man in front of him.

"This wasn't my idea, by the way." He added, "but now I can't let you go."

Peter contemplated arguing he wouldn't say anything, but decided against it. "Then what-what are you-"

"We can do an exchange." Toomes said in a way as if he was speaking to a small child as he bent down next to Peter.

Peter knew where the conversation was going to end up before the man finished and stared past him. He didn't want to die but giving him that information was just as dangerous.

"I was supposed to have those things, and you stopped me-"

"They weren't yours." Peter interrupted firmly, speaking in an almost monotone and digging into his own scalp as he tightened his grip.

"Pete-"

"I can't give you what you want." He said with a slight crack in his voice.

Toomes scoffed, turning away for a second. "That-" he pointed to Peter's head, "that looks painful." He said with raised eyebrows, and within seconds, he harshly grabbed Peter's hand away from under his head and pushed him back against the hard wall.

As much as he wanted to shout, he kept it to a small gasp and then a few heavy breaths as he tried to block out the pain.

"Doesn't hurt, does it?" Toomes mumbled on in the back. And it wasn't until he said something about May that Peter looked up to pay attention.

"What?"

"I'm just saying, your poor aunt shouldn't have gotten involved."

He was good. He was good because Peter couldn't tell if he was lying anymore. He had a genuine look of regret across his face.

"What do you-what does that mean?"

"They went there looking for you, found her and...you know. You know how these things go." Toomes said, watching Peter clench his jaw and fists. "I didn't want fatalities-"

"Fatali-no. You're lying, you're-" he couldn't even finish his sentence before breaking into a cry. "That's-no-". His mind didn't even think to question the possible lie. He pushed his head back against the wall on purpose, bringing up both hands to his head as he broke down.

If May was dead, he had no one. How can you start with parents and uncles and aunts and in the span of a few years, lose all of that? Peter could. If May was dead, there was no one left.

"Tell me, Peter, if she was here and alive-", Peter turned his head to the side and continued to cry as he clutched his hair in despair. "Would she want you to get yourself killed protecting a-a stupid suit?" Toomes questioned in a tone that obviously made Peter sound like the stupid one. Like the one risking his life for nothing.

Peter didn't reply, just shaking his head as he sniffled. He couldn't fight or get out of a washed out building, and he was supposed to be stronger than 90% of the Avengers. That thought irritated him.

"Peter!" Toomes yelled, clicking his fingers in front of him. "She's dead so she's dead, move on and focus a little on yourself, huh?" He said loudly, but it didn't affect Peter.

That irritated Toomes, who huffed furiously and stood up, kicking the wall right next to where Peter was sitting, making him flinch.

"I don't know what Liz saw in you." He said harshly, grabbing Peter's collar and lifting him up slowly. "You ruin lives, and you make the happy, happier. That's all you do." He continued, wrapping his hand around Peter's neck.

He couldn't breathe, and he could feel the fingernails claw into his skin as he wheezed.

"I hope you change your mind tomorrow." Toomes said, dropping him back into his spot.

He felt burning tears in his eyes and took a few seconds to breathe normally again, while watching the older man make his way out.

Toomes stopped again. "One more thing, don't move." He ordered, lifting up his head towards the ceiling before leaving.

Peter followed his gaze and saw a line of masked men with weapons in hand around the top of the warehouse. Ready to kill. He looked back down and clenched his jaw as tight as he could.

He brought up his knees and laid his head down on them, tying his arms under his knees. It was the only discreet way of checking if he still had his shooters, which he soon found he didn't. He was ready to scream at that point. Any other evening, he would've been prepared, he thought. No, he should've taken up the offer of being dropped off, why didn't he? And May. She couldn't be dead. Did he see her? He was going crazy trying his best to remember whether he saw the smallest glimpse of her when he crashed into the living room.

"Tony, go to sleep." Pepper ordered, walking into his set up.

He glanced at her and shook his head. "It's been-it's been seven hours. I can't sleep in the middle of the day, it's our best chance-"

"You can't do anything sleep deprived. And middle of the-it's five am!" She cut in, yawning and checking her watch again.

"Vision can do everything you can, he can take over."

"First of all, he can't, because I created him and I know more. And second, do you think he's sleeping?" He looked up at her with sadness and worry.

Pepper sighed, "Tony-"

"I'll find him."

"I know you will, but-"

"Let me find him. I need to do this." He said, breaking their gaze and looking back down at his screen.

Pepper knew it was so that she wouldn't be able to see him like that. "Okay. Okay, I'll get you snacks or-"

"I got that."

"When?"

Tony pointed vaguely towards Dum-E.

She scoffed, "right, your robots. Apparently everyone here's expendable now." She muttered sarcastically.

"You're not." He said quickly and almost instinctively as he looked up to her and offered a small smile. She copied and nodded, and that was all that needed to be said as she left the room.

It had taken a few hours last night for May to convince the police that Peter Parker was at a friends house and fine. Then she rejected his offer to come with him, because why would she? He'd then spent the rest of his night scanning through, unsuccessfully, the footage around the area.

It shouldn't be that way, he knew, but the thing that was eating away at him was that he hadn't done more just a few hours ago. He could've let Peter stay, or dropped him off himself, or even picked up that phone call. Things would be so different.

Seven hours? It took seven hours to come up with the perfect plan. Usually it would be much quicker, but he couldn't risk dying. Too much was at stake. He spent the night staring closely at the line of villains who were closely observing him.

He couldn't guess how fast he could run, because something in here was stopping him. His head was still dizzy, and he was sure it wasn't the whole 'having your head smashed in' thing. He used his lowest speed, which could still outrun most people, so that wasn't the issue.

He sighed and looked down. Now or never. He fumbled with his fingers and tapped his right foot impatiently, then made a run for it.

He could tell they didn't expect him to do that, because there was a delay in the shooting, which echoed and interrupted he forever silent atmosphere.

He climbed up under the extending shelf where they'd been camping, trying his best to block the uproar and the fact that his ears were ringing. He kicked upwards twice and scrambled into the corner, watching as the thing collapsed downwards with all the people on it.

He knew it wasn't enough to kill, which was the only reason he came up with that plan. He tried kicking through the wood but couldn't enough to break out. He quickly glanced backwards and watched more men flood through the back door. He was screwed.

One of them leading the team shot at Peter, who was expecting to dodge a bullet but ended up taking a fall when something much larger exploded next to him. The wall crumpled under him, and he tumbled down, trying to grasp onto something on the way.

"Stop moving, kiddy!" One of them shouted, and when he shot again, most of the smaller, timid looking attackers scurried out. They were scared? He was scared, he was the child here!

His heart was racing, as was his mind trying to search desperately for a way out. He was pretty sure his head was bleeding again, and he could see wooden splinters on his right arm as well as spots of red.

He froze as he stared ahead at his opponent, and then focused on the row of steel shelves where the strange glowing tech was placed and obviously being messed around with in the corner of his eyes, to his right.

Before anyone could say anything, he raced towards it. It could give some cover, and protect him for at least a few minutes.

There was shouting, screaming, shooting and incoherent sentences being yelled back and forth. He ducked down and held on closely to the edges of the shelves, ready to sling it forwards.

"Go behind!" Someone yelled. He knew there were only around four or five people left. The rest had gone out when the psycho with the gun came. His breathing was elevated, and he couldn't hear right. He gripped tightly and threw it forwards.

Things were quiet, and there was definitely swearing. He squinted as he moved behind another one and waited. He was having a hard time keeping his eyes open.

"What the shit!"

He tried to not breathe so loud.

"Go after him!" And then there was running, and the steps got closer and closer until a loud ringtone interrupted the suddenly foreboding silence. There was a shuffle and then the footsteps disappeared.

He could hear himself breathe louder and louder when he realised they were gone. What he wouldn't give to have Karen right now. The breathing soon turned into a choking cry when he was sure no one was there.

He stood up behind the shelf and looked around at the wreckage in devastation. With both hands on his head, he clenched his jaw tightly and stepped over some of the rubble.

The first thing that caught his eye was the unmoving arm under the steel he'd thrown.

"Hey, dude." Peter said, his voice shaking as he crouched down. He tapped the arm with his foot gently. He wanted to run out of there, but it didn't feel right leaving the guy under there.

He sighed, "come on," he whispered to himself while pushing the shelf off. It was a scruffy and well-built man, and his eyes were closed.

It didn't occur to him that the man was dead. Just hurt. He didn't realise until he checked for the pulse. The nonexistent pulse.

He staggered backwards in shock and all of a sudden, felt sick. Did he just kill someone? No, that wasn't him. It was the man's fault-that's what everyone says. That's what the killers say. He was derailing.

His heart was pounding against his chest, and he felt sick. So, so sick. While it seemed unusual considering what he did every night, he'd never killed, or seen someone die in front of him.

"Shit." He finally managed to say, "what did you do?" His voice was a half-whisper. He ran his hand through his hair again in panic, and immediately pulled it back when he brushed his cut.

He looked up at the door and then back down at the man. He couldn't do anything now, so he ran, practically through the doors and then ending up in the corridors.

There were too many doors, and his clothes were sticking to him. He was stumbling down trying to just get away from that place. Maybe someone would see him and help. Maybe.

His thoughts were all over the place; he was trying his hardest to suppress the whole May thing, ignore his injuries and trying to look for a way out. He ended up at the entrance within a few minutes. The doors were chained and he tugged weakly, stepping back when he heard something from the other side.

He listened intently as he took a few steps back and panted, watching the doors closely. When he heard a louder crash, he flinched and started making his way down the opposite end again. Where the hell was he trapped?

He hastily opened a door to his left and stumbled in, closing it behind him and practically collapsing in front of it.

There was a deadly silence and all he could hear was his own pulse in his ears for a good few minutes. Then he heard more racketing and destruction.

"Peter?" A familiar voice called from the corridor and outside his room.

Tony. Or maybe he wasn't hearing it right. He waited some more and heard his name being called again, then pulled himself up and away from the door.

The doorknob turned and Peter frowned as he watched the door open.

It was Tony, but Peter didn't move. He continued to stare. There was a sigh of relief, which projected loud and clear from the suit.

"Building is clear." Friday informed, and Tony immediately stepped out of his suit and watched as Peter took another step back.

"It's me." Tony stated dumbly with the most worried expression, obviously it was him. "Peter." He almost whispered, because he didn't want to find him like that. There was a lot of blood, and cuts on his face and he looked frozen, and it was heartbreaking.

"Yeah." Peter said, nodding his head with an upset frown and then shaking his hand. "I thought-," he cut himself out and shook his head. "Where's May?"

"At home, waiting for you." Tony said, slowly stepping closer. Of course she was at home, because it was all lies. "It's okay, you're safe now." Tony said, but Peter wasn't paying attention.

He looked down and clenched his jaw to stop himself from breaking down here. "We can't go." He said more or less to himself.

Tony looked around the room, "yes we can, come on-"

"There's a dead guy." Peter cut in, and Tony squinted in confusion, "down the-the corridor there's this door-and, and there's a-"

"Doesn't matter, Peter-"

"It does matter!" Peter yelled, "I was the one who killed him." There was less regret and more fear in his voice.

Tony exhaled, that's what it's about. "Peter, listen to me, he was a bad guy and if he-"

"That doesn't mean I should've killed him!" He shouted, and by then he was crying, "I didn't mean it-I threw the table and-no it was supposed to scare them and he got-he was in the way-"

Tony said his name a few times and then pulled him in for a hug, which finally stopped him. "These things happen, it's unavoidable." He said, speaking to himself as well. "We chose this. You know that everyday you go on these little missions you can get killed, and they're double your age, they know more than enough."

Tony squinted when he saw Peter's neck. Aside from the bruises and blood, there was something there. He touched the skin and Peter flinched, pulling away.

"What is that?" Tony asked, his eyes pointing towards Peter's shoulders.

Peter frowned in confusion, "what's what?" He brought up his hand to the back of his hand and he felt it. A small hard square-feeling object. He looked up and was about to say something when his vision blurred again.

He stumbled backwards and Tony grabbed his arm. He couldn't make out the rest.

"Specifically? Okay, so it just, what, suppressed his abilities?"

"Yes." Friday replied, and Tony nodded as he stared at the tiny blue chip.

He leaned back in his chair, "so what if a certain shield-wielding individual was to use it?" He asked, throwing around the chip in his hands.

"It could be fatal, Peter is much stronger than the majority of the Avengers." Friday said, and that made Tony feel a little proud.

"Yeah he is." He muttered with a smile, throwing the chip onto the counter. "Dum-E put it somewhere safe, and you better know where it is when I ask." He ordered with a frown, getting up from his chair.

He looked to Rhodey, who'd been sitting across him with his phone. "Handy thing." He said.

Rhodey looked up, "no. No, Tony, because we're not planning on killing anyone we know." He said with a frown.

Tony rolled his eyes, "of course not. But it can be useful for certain people."

"Yeah? Like for who?"

Tony shrugged, "Loki." He pointed out, "that guy just doesn't die."

"Have you seen him yet? Since he got back?" Rhodey asked, putting his phone down.

"Loki's back? From where?" He joked, knowing what Rhodes meant.

Rhodey scoffed softly, "you really gonna make a fifteen year old feel like you're too busy for him after all that?"

"That's not what I'm doing." Tony said defensively and quickly.

Rhodey furrowed his brows, "yeah? Then what are you doing? It's been a day."

Tony clenched his jaw before talking. "He told me he was scared that night. And ironically, look what happened. I told him nothing would happen."

Rhodey looked surprised, "jeez, Tony." He said after a few seconds, "what happened-"

"He's a child, I should've listened, chance or not."

"Just see him in the morning and say that to him then." Rhodey advised, seeing no point in arguing. "He'll understand."

"Right." Tony said sarcastically, making his way out. He walked down the corridor and stopped outside Peter's room. It was late, and he was asleep. This was probably the first time he'd passed by where May wasn't in.

He stood by the open door and stared inside for a minute before shifting. He let that happen. There was no point in being a hero and doing what he did when Peter had already got himself out of the worst situation.

He didn't know how long he'd stand there, but he frowned when Peter fidgeted a few times, which was soon followed by small but heavy intakes of air.

He frowned and looked back down the corridor for May, who wasn't there, and then moved in. "Peter?" He said quietly.

Peter's breathing elevated and Tony nudged him a few times until he gasped awake. "It's okay. It's me." He reassured him as he grabbed the hand Peter was about to hit him with.

His young mentee glared in fear for a few seconds before starting to nod and faking a small laugh. "Yeah, yeah, it was a-just a dream."

Tony nodded and while the only light in the room was coming from outside, he could tell Peter was on the verge of tears. "Yeah?"

"Uh huh." Peter said quickly. He sat up and rubbed his eyes.

Tony pursed his lips, "are you sure? Must've been a hell of a dream."

"Just a bad dream." Peter said again, tired and trying his hardest to steer the conversation away from the point he knew it was headed.

"So a nightmare?" Tony said, although it came out more condescending than he wanted.

Peter looked to his left at his outline, "sure." He agreed, "but I'm sleepy right now, so-"

"No you're not." Tony cut in.

Peter scoffed, "no I'm not." He repeated, "but I'm not-I don't need to talk about it. I'm fine." He said boldly, "I'm so, so fine."

"You just had a nightmare."

"So? People have nightmares, it's not a big deal." He shrugged it off. "I-uh-what happened to-"

"He got caught a few hours ago." Tony said, knowing what the question was going to be, and his answer seemed to calm Peter.

"That's great." Peter said, but the usual excitement didn't show.

Tony exhaled, "Peter, be honest."

"I am. I'm being as honest-"

"You're not."

"I am. I don't know what you want me to say-"

"The truth, just say-"

"You should've listened to me! I told you-I said all that-those things and-and I was right! I was right, like I was right last time, but you don't listen!" Peter erupted, and Tony looked at him feeling more guilty than he'd ever felt. He hadn't expected that so soon.

"I'm-"

"I know." Peter sighed, "you're sorry, and it's fine, because I'm fine and-"

"It's not fine. I should've done more." Tony said, throwing both hands up in the air with a guilty face.

There was a two minute silence before Peter spoke. "Next time, Mr Stark."

"There's not gonna be a next time." Tony said instantly putting a hand in his pocket and Peter nodded with a smile.

That took ages, sorry - this was based on a comment prompt :)

I kinda write the main part then lose interest, which is really bad, then it takes me ages to write the last few paragraphs.

Anyways, enjoy if you're still reading.

Also, would you prefer shorter stories? I realise mine are getting a bit long.