AN: Holy shit, I am so sorry. I never thought I would be one of those authors, I don't deserve you guys seriously. I got through APs though! Thank you for the well wishes, they mean a lot to me. I'm super sorry that I didn't update when I promised, senior year has me unbelievably tired. I'm through prom, only graduation left. However I took on a lot of new projects (some of you may have noticed I started a new Iron Husbands fic, that's only one of the things I'm working on!) so I'm not sure how often I will be updating. Definitely more in the summer. I'll try to keep it up to once a week, might have to move out to once every two weeks. If you want more frequent dabbles, again, you can follow my tumblr, I reblog a lot of marvel stuff on there and take writing prompts! It's .
This isn't the direction I was planning to head with these next few chapters, but so many of you wanted Tony to stay with the Parkers for awhile that who was I to refuse? I hope you guys like it. Don't worry, Spider-Man is definitely sticking around and I have a lot more planned. This chapter is pretty angsty, but we'll be into some maaaajor fluff next chapter. And feel free to ask for prompts, always! I'm always open for suggestions and feedback.
At Me And Not You 1001 - I'm sorry I couldn't do what you asked! I feel like it would make Cap too out of character if he wasn't concerned about where Tones was going. But I'm still open to suggestions!
Also, there's some Italian in this chapter - most of the words should be at least a little recognizable. If you guys want me to post the translations, just ask and I will!
If Peter was being honest, he had no idea how to deal with children. Middle schoolers? Okay. Adults? Got it down. Anyone under the age of twelve? They took naps, right.
It seemed like he was doing alright though. Aunt May was washing the dishes while he did math homework; James had somehow ended up on his lap, using his phone to play a mindless puzzle game and solving the problems too fast for a normal kid, but who was Peter to judge. His hand was in James's curls, slowly getting the boy to relax. Every once in awhile he would glance at Peter's equations, but didn't seem overly interested in them.
Eventually Peter focused on his homework, letting his hand drop comfortably around James's waist. The boy squirmed a bit before settling again, placing a hand on Peter's wrist as if to make sure his arm wouldn't move. May had just settled down in the living room to watch TV when James interrupted Peter's studies.
"That's wrong," he said quickly before clapping a hand over his mouth, looking like he had just killed a kitten. Peter blinked, and frowned.
"What do you mean?" James huffed, pointing to the last two problems on his math homework.
"You're doing it wrong. You don't have the correct formula." Peter frowned, looking back over his homework. He thought the answered seemed weird, but he wasn't sure what he was doing wrong.
"We've got a little genius here, huh?" May said, ruffling James's hair as she passed to get something. James practically preened.
But no normal five year old should've known anything about advanced calculus, no matter how smart they were. Peter's anxiety from before came niggling back, poking at his brain. But his spider senses, as he liked to call them, weren't indicating anything abnormal, and James certainly didn't seem dangerous, just a little lost. He shrugged it off again, letting James wriggle off his lap and run to the living room with May to watch with her. His hand brushed against something stiff jutting from the boy's chest and he watched James flinch and brush it off with a visible shake. Something was weird.
"So," May said softly as the commercial came on, brushing her fingers through James's hair as he leaned into her side. "How are we going to get you home, young man?" Tony frowned. He probably did need to tell someone where he was. He said he would be back by dinner, but he had planned to text Natasha before then anyway - she would understand his need for some space and leave him alone until he was ready. It was already after lunch, and Cap was probably hysterical by now.
"I can call them," he finally sighed, pulling his phone out of his pocket. "They're probably worried anyway."
"Hey, I'm not trying to force you out." She tilted his chin to look at him, studying his face closely. "You can stay here as long as you need, James. And if you want anything..."
And oh, they really did think he was abused. Didn't that dredge up bad memories? Why couldn't the Parkers have been there... Oh no.
Tears were welling up as his nose started to run and he wiped it on his sleeve, blinking desperately. "Thanks," he said, and his voice came out cracking. "It's not like you think, Ms. Parker, but thank you. I'd really like to come back here sometime."
"Of course, sweetheart. Would you like me to talk to your parents for you?" He shook his head, taking in a deep breath.
"No. It would probably just make Cap more angry."
And then the solution to the problem that had been eating in Peter's brain burst into life and he stood, staring with wide eyes. "Mr. Stark?!"
May looked at him like he was crazy, but Tony glanced away, not meeting his eyes. "Stark?" May said, confused. "I didn't know he had a kid."
"I don't," Tony said softly as he turned on his phone. "That would be me. A superhero thing happened." It was a lame explanation, but it was pretty much what he had at this point. "Like I said, it's not like you think. I just needed to get out of the house." Peter was still staring, confusion and bewilderment and amazement and excitement all rolled into one, but May saw. She saw Tony Stark, a man in the middle of his life, closing himself off from the world, drawing away from happiness, and a child that had things done to him which were exactly what she thought. She saw Tony Stark, a man who needed love and who had never been a child, and now that he was unfortunately a child again, needed, but didn't have, guidance.
May had never expected to become a parental figure, a mother. Then Peter fell into their laps, and Ben was gone, and she had risen to the occasion. And now she could see children like she hadn't before, in a way mothers only could.
But she could also see Tony Stark in a way a lot of others couldn't, because she had grown up alongside him. She and her peers had watched him stand in his father's shadow, throw smiles like candy to placate the masses, and watched him destroy himself slowly. They saw his rebellion for what it was, because at some point all of them had felt the same, and ached for someone to help him like people had helped them. No one would, because Tony Stark was much better at playing the game than they were, and as they grew up he faded from their minds.
But now May could see that they should have done more. Someone should have done more, at least. A man, a boy, had suffered. Suffered alone, hiding in the limelight of the masses.
And they had watched.
She pulled Tony to her side, wrapping him in a tight hug, ignoring his bewildered protests. "Mr. Stark," she said softly but firmly, cutting him off. "Peter and I are here for you, whether you are 'James' or not. You can come visit us any time, do you hear me?" She understood, vaguely, how hard it would be for Tony to trust them, for him to believe they didn't want any money or expect anything from him. Maybe she was stupid, for openly inviting someone as eccentric and reckless as the billionaire into her and Peter's lives. But she had an inkling that even though Tony was a hero, there was no one left to save him. Everyone knew Stark's story - hell, it was the tragedy of the century. At least when she and Peter lost people, lost things, they still had each other. Clearly Stark didn't have that kind of support, and since Peter had decided to drag in a stray it seemed they were the ones who were going to give it.
Peter seemed shocked into silence, but Tony chuckled. "Thanks Ms. Parker. I may take you up on that. I really enjoyed lunch." She smiled at him and let him pull away as his phone rang.
"Anthony Edward Stark," Bruce all but growled, clearly at the end of his restraint. Tony flinched. "Why the hell-... You know what, just stay the fuck put." Tony stared at his phone for a second before looking at May timidly.
"You might have a bunch of angry superheros banging on your door in the next few minutes."
"Well you-!" Peter sputtered, stopping himself before seeming to think better of it. "You're Tony Stark and you're a toddler now and you just decided to wander around New York City! No wonder they're angry."
"Yeah, yeah. I don't need a dressing down from you, spider-boy." Peter flushed, glancing at Aunt May, but she didn't seem to think anything of it. "I'll get enough of that soon. Despite what everyone else seems to think, I'm not stupid, and I do know how to avoid getting kidnapped and handle myself in the case of a kidnapping."
The Parkers fell silent.
Seven minutes later found the door kicked in by Steve, Tony curled up on the couch tucked under May's arm, sucking on his thumb as they watched soap operas and Peter did homework. They all jumped and Tony sighed sadly. "Did you have to kick in their door, Cap?" Steve was breathing hard, although Tony thought that was mostly from anger, Clint and Natasha glaring over his shoulders.
Clint shouldered past the super soldier, grabbing Tony's arm and pulling him off the couch, dragging him a distance away from May as Peter stood to watch from the doorway to the kitchen. An angry, wordless sound came from the blond's throat as he grabbed Tony's shoulders and shook him, baring his teeth. "What the fuck were you thinking?"
"Mostly about Legos," Tony responded before he could think it through, focused on keeping his face blank and forcing down the bile that burned in his chest, earning another shake for his trouble. He kept his gaze even, watching Clint's face, looking for signs; and seeing them. He swallowed thickly, refusing to break eye contact, drawing himself up and readying himself for the attack that he rationally knew wouldn't come. Probably, a small voice whispered, and he swallowed down acid.
Clint worked his jaw, considering shaking Stark again - maybe it would knock some sense into him - but Natasha called him softly, and he glanced at her. Her face was impassive, but her eyes burned, even though she shook her head minutely. He bared his teeth at her as well, digging his fingers into Tony's shoulders in the hope for some reaction before letting go and backing away, glaring at the child. Stark remained stalwart, still meeting his eyes, empty of remorse.
"Are you goddamn stupid?" Steve whispered behind him, anguish that Stark mistook for rage barely contained, his voice shaking. He stepped forward, his shield gripped tightly, like it was the only thing grounding him. He was trembling from fear and adrenaline. "Jesus, you do some stupid shit, but this? This is too far. What were you doing!" Tony gestured to the side.
"I was making the tower. It even-" Steve lost it. He didn't mean to, and he hated himself for it, his shield breaking the tower to pieces and making it clatter to the floor, blocks shedding over Tony's feet and bouncing off his legs. Stark paled, but didn't flinch, and sighed soundlessly, like it was something he expected. "I understand that you're angry, but that was really uncalled for."
"Uncalled for?" Clint snarled. "Uncalled for was waking up and JARVIS-"
"Stop," Stark commanded, holding up a hand, and for all that they lived with the man, had conferences with the man, watched the man at his most harmless, when he used his press voice like that it was still hard for them to disobey. Steve was always stricken by how much it made him sound like Howard.
"Tony, we just want to protect you," he said after taking a deep breath, trying to calm himself. Natasha was eyeing the Parkers, who had turned off the TV and were staring her down with identical expressions and crossed arms.
"By locking me up in my own tower like Rapunzel." Suddenly Tony glared at him, his hands in fist, and God, why hadn't he noticed earlier, he was shaking. "You guys seem to forget that I am the oldest, besides Bruce. And I have lived this life, a life of constant fear, every single moment. I know how to handle myself. I know. Everyone only remembers Afghanistan, but that wasn't the first. You think that was the first? I'm the son of Howard fucking Stark, I've been hunted since the day I was born!" His voice was shaking, forced out past a lump in his throat. Every instinct was screaming at him to stop talking, to fear the retaliation for what he was saying, but even then, he didn't. These people wouldn't hurt him, not on purpose. "I know how to keep out of trouble. How to get out of trouble. How to defend myself. You have no idea, no idea what goes on in my head. I needed time, and I said I was going to come back. But none of you trust me." Steve raised an eyebrow.
"It's not that we don't trust you." They stared each other down, and Steve couldn't help but remember the first time they met, their first fight within minutes of meeting each other. They had come a long way, and he would even call them friends, but it was true that he still couldn't figure Stark out. "Tony, you need to figure out whether you want us to treat you like a kid or like an adult. Because you're giving us mixed signals here, and you can't have both." Tony stared for a moment like he was looking at someone incredibly small and incredibly stupid, a look that Steve hated on a normal day and absolutely despised on this one.
"You're getting mixed signals? How the fuck do you think I feel? Listen, I know what I want and need, and I told you guys that, I wasn't lying. But Jesus Christ Steve, I've lived more of my life as an adult than I have as a kid, and it's been a long time since I was this age. So I'm fucking trying my best, alright, it's a goddamn work in progress. And then I'm- I'm kidnapped and I'm a freak and..." Tony took a couple steadying breaths which could've been taken for anger or tears. "I know how to take care of myself. I do that damn well. I have no fucking clue how to let others take care of me. Especially not... I don't have a single way to cope, alright? I needed some fucking time, because I could not stand your 'America is disappointed in you' face if I went to the shop, or caused havoc, or tried to bottle myself up. So I took some goddamn time because I've been alone my whole life and suddenly you people are surrounding me and I can't breathe!" Tony was shouting, clutching at the arc reactor convulsively, his eyes now averted. He was trying, why couldn't they see he was trying? He wanted this, he wanted to let himself trust them, to let them take care of him, but he didn't know how, God knows he didn't know how.
Peter could see the other Avengers faltering. "Tony," Clint said softly, stopping abruptly when he stepped forward and the boy instinctively flinched. Fear shined on Tony's face for less than an instant before he managed to school it back to calm, but he knew it was enough. His friends were staring at him. He didn't want to talk about this, he didn't want to remember it. No way in hell did he want to talk about it with Steve, of all people. His throat felt tight as he swallowed and clutched the arc reactor once more, his shirt bunched up around his fist.
"Anthony," May said softly, and he looked at her, desperate for something grounding, something real, because this could not be happening to him. The use of his full name would usually make him start and sneer, but it was so natural, so loving, it sounded like his mother and God did he miss her, he needed her, he needed Jarvis. "Would you like to stay with us for a few days? You could sleep with Peter and have some time to breathe. Try to get your head on straight." He nodded reflexively, almost jerking as he stepped towards her before darting the rest of the way, burying his face in her thigh and wrapping his arms around her leg.
Her hand went to his hair automatically and she could feel him shudder against him, taking rasping breaths that made her frown. She glanced up to see the Black Widow mirroring her expression while Captain America and Hawkeye still seemed frozen; it was clear who the sensible one was, and May let herself feel a little bad for Widow being the only female on the team. "Pete?" she said softly and he nodded, running to the bathroom. She could hear him rifling through the cabinets as the Widow looked at her warily, clearly not trusting. May couldn't blame her in the slightest. Captain America was slowly paling, staring at Tony like he was about to die, his hands twitching like he wanted to help but had no idea how. May brushed her hand through the genius's curls, amazed at herself for her sudden ability to adapt, biting her lip and trying to figure out a way to calm the panic attack. Widow's face softened.
"Antonio," she crooned as she knelt, meeting his eye with a smile as he peeked out at her, his eyes bright and his breath wheezing. "Devi respirare, gattino." He shuddered again, his shoulders slumping, copying her exaggerated breaths. It didn't seem to help much. "Bene, bambino, continua. Va bene. Puoi stare qui. Puoi parlarmi?" He shook his head against May's leg, his hands trembling as he signed frantically, and she cocked her head to the side, watching. Hawkeye looked startled but watched as well, rubbing at the shell of his ear.
"Sh, Tony, it's alright," the blond interrupted after a moment. It seemed to May that Tony had simply been signing the same thing over and over. "It's alright, okay. We aren't mad, we were just scared. We care about you, you idiot."
"I found it!" Peter called as he came running back in, thrusting the inhaler into May's hand with a worried smile. She smiled back, kneeling but not stopping her petting of the boy that clung to her.
"Anthony? You're having a panic attack, but that light in your chest must be making it hard to breathe, huh. I've got an inhaler here. You know how to use it, don't you?" Tony looked up at her, his eyes shining, and nodded, holding his hand out for the steroid. He coughed on the first inhale, clutching his chest, but after a minute his breathing was easier. May watched him carefully, continuing to smile.
"Antonio," Widow spoke up after he calmed and sagged, still using the same soft voice. "Pep e porterò le tue cose, gattino. Assicuratevi di chiamare." He looked at her and she watched him steadily, gaze flicking at May and Peter momentarily. "Don't ever feel like you have to hide from us, Tony," she muttered softly, and Tony flinched.
"I can't," he choked out, looking trapped. "I-"
"It's alright. Tony, you don't have to talk to us either." Hawkeye glanced at Widow and she narrowed her eyes. "But we're here. And we'd better go, Bruce is probably ready to bust a vein down in the car."