Hello friends, here's what you have been waiting for: a new chapter! It's gonna be really emotional, but this is what you all wanted, right? You know, the talk? That talk between Tony and Peter? Well, I finally finished it. And it's long, longer than I expected. I hope I didn't make too many mistakes.
Thanks again for the favorites, follows and reviews, I love you guys!
Disclaimer: no, I don't own Marvel. I wish.
Anyway, enjoy!
"I think you should go with the car accident. That's probably the most believable explanation for the broken bones," Mr. Stark muses while pushing Peter's wheelchair along the corridor in the med bay.
The boy hates the idea of sitting in a damned wheelchair but he can't use crutches with his wrist also in a cast. He would like to go back to his place, curl into a ball and not come out until his injuries heal. That's what he always does. But he knows this time it would be pretty complicated in his condition, to say the least. He might be able to deal with cuts, stab wounds, bullet grazes and bruises in the warehouse, but a leg and a wrist in cast is different. Not that they hurt, but they're quite uncomfortable and make moving around pretty challenging.
Still, Peter would love to go back to his place, but he wasn't asked. When he woke up from his sleep just half an hour ago, Dr. Banner told him he was free to go as long as he took it easy. Which Peter promised, of course. He just needed some clothes to change into. Before he could have even asked, Mr. Stark presented him fresh clothes: a shirt with the logo of some kind of old rock band and sweatpants. The clothes obviously came from the man's own wardrobe again.
And then Mr. Stark said he would take Peter into his apartment. The boy immediately opened his mouth to protest. Despite the difficulties, he wanted to return to the warehouse.
"Would you rather stay here, kid?" Mr. Stark raised an eyebrow, gesturing at his bed in the med bay. So according to the man, the warehouse wasn't even an option.
Peter just shook his head in defeat. Something in Mr. Stark's eyes told him no to object. And honestly, he was way too tired to put up a fight. Healing has always taken a lot out of him.
"Car accident?" Peter asks back, grinning as the wheelchair is pushed toward the elevator. "I have the worst luck in the world. I miss school all the time because I always have the flu and now a car accident?"
"Well, you can always follow my lead, kid. Just say the word and I'll call a press conference right away. You can reveal your identity to the world and you'll never have to make up cover stories again," Mr. Stark says with a smirk.
Peter rolls his eyes. "Car accident it is. Julia's eldest son, Jake, who I share a room with by the way, just got his driving license. He was so proud. He picked me up from school this afternoon. But when one of his friends texted him, he checked his phone while driving and didn't notice a red light and we crashed."
"I can't imagine what idiot could give that dumbass a license," Mr. Stark frowns as the elevator doors open.
"I know, right?" Peter grins again. "So that's why I disappeared from school today. I mean when that monster showed up, I felt sick and sneaked out into the bathroom. I think only Ned noticed that, though… Anyway, then Jake texted me and I went with him."
"I don't know if I should be proud or worried, kid. I mean the way you come up with cover stories is impressive. And scary. On the other hand, no one would ever believe you, so it doesn't really matter," the man shrugs staring disinterestedly at the wall of the elevator.
"Why would you say that?" Peter looks up at Mr. Stark disappointed. He's been pretty proud at himself for making up a story this fast.
"The story is good but the way you're telling it… Just one pro tip, kid. Don't stare at the floor all along while you're telling your story. Avoiding eye contact is the number one mistake people make when they lie. Not that I would want to teach you how to lie. You shouldn't lie. Bad thing. You're a bad child. Don't lie. Ever."
"Not even to protect my secret identity?"
Mr. Stark hesitates before answering. Then he looks at Peter. "Maybe that's an exception. The only exception. But be careful because like I said you suck at lying."
"Doesn't matter because most people ignore me anyway," the boy says with a forced smile. Like it's a good thing. "No one will ask questions. Maybe just Ned. Yeah, he will. I need to be prepared when I talk to him. I texted him earlier but that was easy. Talking will be tough."
"Maybe you should consider telling him at least some of your secrets," Mr. Stark offers as the elevator doors open and he pushes the wheelchair into his living room. "You say he's your best friend. He'll understand. And you'll feel better, kid."
Peter nods. Yeah, it would be really nice to share a secret or two with Ned. To be able to talk to him without being extra careful all the time, being afraid of letting something slip. In the past few months, there have been several times when he avoided Ned. He really likes his friend but he was so scared that he might accidentally blow his cover that avoiding Ned seemed safer. Even if he felt lonelier. Yeah, it would be really great to talk to Ned again. Honestly, freely.
Maybe later. Because now he's staying with Mr. Stark for the time being and he has bigger problems. Like figuring out how long he's gonna stay here. Until his casts come off? Even with his healing factor, that will probably take a few days. And how will this whole thing work? What will Mr. Stark do when he has to work? Will he leave Peter alone in his penthouse? Or will someone come to stay with him? Like Dr. Banner? That would be so cool!
So many questions. But Peter doesn't have the courage to actually ask them.
"Right, kid, is it okay if you settle on the couch for now? You can watch a movie or text your friends, whatever kids do at your age," Mr. Stark says.
"Couch is fine."
The man pushes the wheelchair as close to the couch as possible and offers his arm to help Peter. He doesn't really need it, he could push himself up but he doesn't want to be rude and accepts the help. Mr. Stark also helps him propping up his broken leg on a pillow and then gives him the remote. "Here. But you can always ask Friday, one of her jobs is to act as a remote. Are you hungry? You haven't had dinner yet."
"I'm good, thanks," Peter answers and turns on the TV, absentmindedly flipping through the channels.
He is hungry. But he doesn't want to be a problem for Mr. Stark. He's gonna wait until the man leaves and he'll skip into the kitchen to find something to eat. He's sure Mr. Stark has something to do. Like a business dinner or he's gonna meet friends. Or he might have a date. Isn't he dating with Miss Potts who he named as the CEO of SI? Or he might go into his lab. But he won't stay here with Peter. Mr. Stark knows he's perfectly capable of taking care of himself.
"Well, I am starving," Mr. Stark shrugs. "Friday dear, order pizza. The regular. But two this time."
"Certainly, boss," the AI answers.
"Or would you rather eat Chinese?" the man suddenly turns to Peter. "Thai? Indian? I forgot to ask, sorry."
"Pizza is fine," the boy gives him a nod, forgetting he claimed he wasn't hungry.
Mr. Stark walks into the kitchen and pours himself coffee. "Do you want to drink something, kid?"
"Water is good, thanks, Mr. Stark."
"Are you sure? You can have soda, too. Or hot chocolate. I might even have tea somewhere, I remember Pepper left here some of her exotic Chinese stuff," the man says rummaging through the cupboards.
"Water is really fine, Mr. Stark. Or soda."
"Okay then", Mr. Stark replies and grabs a soda from the refrigerator.
Peter watches him suspicious as he hands him the drink. Then he sits down into an armchair and sets down his mug on the coffee table, beside a stack of documents. Must be some kind of work stuff.
They watch TV in silence, but only after a minute or two, Mr. Stark turns to Peter. "Do you need anything else? A blanket, maybe? Aren't you cold, kid? Friday, turn on the heating."
Without waiting for a response, the man is already up, grabbing a blanket from a stool and drapes it over the boy.
Okay, Peter is really confused now. What is going on? Yes, Mr. Stark has always been nice to him; he brought Peter here when he got injured (twice now) and when he had that breakdown. He made him a suit. He offered him help. And when he stayed here, he even made him breakfast. So he shouldn't be surprised that Mr. Stark is kind to him now, too. And it feels so nice.
Peter has got used to being alone in the last months. No one asks him if he's hungry or what he would like to eat. No one asks him if he's cold and brings him a blanket. No one cares about him. And it sucks. But he has accepted it. He hates it, he thinks it's really unfair and terrible, but he has come to terms with it.
And now here's someone actually paying attention to him. Caring for him. It's something that Peter has always wished for. Someone to be with him, help him, talk to him, ease his loneliness. So he wouldn't feel like the most unwanted, the most ignored, invisible kid. Yes, he knows he could blame himself, too. It was his decision to stay alone after May's death. To hide from the system and the world. And he doesn't regret his decision, he still believes it's been the right thing to do but gosh, it doesn't mean it's easy to be utterly alone!
And he's really grateful that Mr. Stark is here with him now and honestly, he's grateful that he didn't have to go back into that cold, empty warehouse. Staying at the Tower, lounging on this couch with a soda in his hand and waiting for his pizza is way better than the warehouse. Better than lying on that dirty mattress waiting for his injuries to heal. He knows that and he is very, very grateful.
But he also knows the better he's feeling here now, the harder it'll be to go back. Because when those few days are up that Mr. Stark mentioned earlier, when Peter recovers, he has to leave. He'll be back in that damned abandoned building, being cold and hungry and lonely. How could he enjoy his time at the Tower when all he can think of is his inevitable leaving?
"Are you okay? Or do you need another blanket?" Mr. Stark asks breaking into his chaotic thoughts. "How's the leg? Isn't that pillow too soft? Maybe it's too soft, I picked a wrong one. We could try another one." He quickly gets up, grabs some cushions and walks to the boy.
"Stop!" Peter blurts out before he could stop himself.
The man comes to an immediate halt and stares at the boy surprised.
Peter lowers his head in shame. "I'm sorry, Mr. Stark. I'm so sorry. That was rude. I didn't mean it. I am really grateful for everything. I am. You've helped me a lot and… thank you, sir. I think I haven't even said that yet. I'm sorry."
The man sighs, sits down on the couch beside Peter, gently patting his right leg. "Kid, you thanked me like a thousand times already, so don't stress about it, okay? Now come on, tell me. What should I stop? Help me out here, Peter, I'm new to this, I don't know what I'm doing."
The boy remains silent. He's dangerously close to crying, those damned tears are already in his eyes again and he doesn't want Mr. Stark to see how pathetic he is. He should consider himself lucky, he knows that, being here at the Tower. Yet here he is yelling at Mr. Stark. He has already made a very bad impression on the man; he shouldn't make it worse with childish crying.
But Mr. Stark is still sitting there beside him, still resting his hand on his leg. Peter definitely owes him an explanation. So he does his best to swallow back those tears and slowly raises his head, ignoring how red his eyes must look.
"Stop hovering, Mr. Stark, please. I am really grateful that you let me stay here and you are so kind to me. But I know when my time is up, I have to leave and it'll be so much harder, if you are this nice. I mean maybe I should just go into the guest room and stay there until I recover. It's gonna be fine. And I eat and drink whatever I get; you don't have to ask me. I know I don't have the right to ask more, sir, but if you could be a bit less nice to me, that would make it easier."
"Less nice?" Mr. Stark asks baffled.
"Yes. I appreciate your concern, sir and your kindness, but this will make it much harder for me to go back to my life in a few days," Peter explains lowering his head again. He can feel the tears threatening to fall once again.
If it's possible, Mr. Stark sounds even more confused than before. "What are you talking about, kid? Why would you leave in a few days? You're not going anywhere."
"You said… before… when I spent the night here. That I could stay for a few days," Peter says weakly, looking up.
He clearly remembers Mr. Stark's words. He said a few days. And Peter said no for the very same reason why he thinks it's gonna be so hard to leave now. Because it takes no time to get used to a better life and then going back into his world will be almost unbearable.
Mr. Stark gives him a small smile that Peter cannot understand. What is there to smile about?
"Okay, listen up, kid," the man starts not looking puzzled anymore. No, he looks relieved but Peter doesn't understand why. "I wanted to have this discussion with you a little bit later, like when you're all settled and fed, but I guess we should do this now before you freak out even more. First of all, you're right, I said a few days back then, but that was before your unfortunate encounter with Kong. I've known you for like what? A few weeks now? And in those few weeks I found you injured and knocked out on a rooftop twice. Twice, Peter. I don't wanna go through that again, kid. I'm an old man with a heart that can't tolerate much stress. And you know how stressful my life is already. I can't take more. And if you stay here, I can keep an eye on you and maybe, just maybe you'll get in trouble less. Which would help my heart, you see.
"And second of all, I never wanted you to leave, Pete," he continues softly. "Not even when I said you could stay a few days. I just didn't want to overwhelm you. I had offered you my help a few times before and you had always said no. I thought you didn't want me to help at all. You lived on your own and you didn't want me to interfere with your life. So I thought if I had told you to stay for good, you would have freaked out and run away. I just didn't want to scare you off."
Peter stares at the man as if to make sure he's serious. Because if Mr. Stark really wants him to stay for good… If he doesn't want to send him away… can it be possible?
"I thought you offered to help me because you just wanted to be nice," he mutters.
"So you didn't think I was serious?" Mr. Stark chuckles.
"No… yes? I mean you're a very busy man, Mr. Stark. You have the SI, you are an inventor and an Avenger. I just can't see how I could fit into your life, sir."
"Honestly? I can't see it either, Pete," the man smiles again. "But let me tell you, I can't see how I fit into your life, either. I mean I'm not sure it's me who you really need. I had a terrible father, I didn't have any good role model and I know nothing about kids. I'm afraid I'll mess up, Peter, really, I'm terrified. But... having said that I'm sure I want you to be in my life, kid."
Peter eyes him hesitantly. "You don't have to do this, Mr. Stark. Really. I can go back to my life, it's fine, I'm gonna be okay. You don't have to feel responsible for me just because I'm a kid. I can take care of myself."
"I know, Pete," the man says. "But I want to do this. I am serious. You don't believe me? Do you know what those papers are on the table?" he asks pointing at the stack of sheets.
Peter shakes his head.
"Those are documents to become your guardian. I have already signed them. And you should check out your room, bud. That's not a guest room anymore, that's your room. That's the official name. Come, let me help," Mr. Stark says enthusiastically, helping Peter back into the wheelchair and he pushes him to his room.
He opens the door revealing the few items Peter had back in the warehouse. Did Mr. Stark go there to pick them up? Peter's mouth falls open as he takes a look around.
"You can decorate this room the way you want, kid, it's all yours," the man beside him continues. "It's your home, Pete. You never ever have to leave."
The boy is staring at the room and he notices his books and computer parts on the desk, his few clothes neatly folded on the couch and his photos already in frames on the wall. How could Mr. Stark arrange all this in such a short time? Peter can't stop the tears from falling anymore but he doesn't really care.
Mr. Stark crouches down beside him. "So what do you say, bud? Ready to stay with this old man for good?"
Peter glances at him through tearful eyes. He can see Mr. Stark smiling, but he can also see the uncertainty in the man's eyes. He's obviously waiting for Peter's answer and he's not entirely sure what to expect.
But Peter can help him with that. Because his answer is clear.
"Yes, Mr. Stark! I would love to stay here!" he says happily and jumps into the man's arms. And when Mr. Stark envelopes him in a tight hug, Peter finally feels he's home.
And they lived happily ever after.
If you think it feels like a happy, fluffy last chapter... Well, that was the plan. This is where I wanted to get when I started this story. To give these babies a happy ending. (Fun fact: I thought I could make it happen in 7-9 chapters. Haha, how naive I was.)
But honestly, I'm not ready to say goodbye to these guys. I think there's still so much potential in this story. I mean they start a new life now and that must be challenging. There's still a lot to tell, don't you think?
So let's call this the last chapter of Phase One, okay?
Thank you for reading and see you next time!