Hello lovely readers, I'm back with a new chapter. I'm so happy that you loved the previous one and you would like me to continue this story. I have plenty of ideas, so expect a lot more chapters! Some of you asked if I could include Ned. Sure, he'll be here soon, I promise.
But first, enjoy this fluffy one. Because after all the hurt/comfort in the previous chapters, our two favorite babies definitely deserve some fluff, right? So let's start Phase Two, shall we?
Disclaimer: no, I don't own Marvel. I wish.
The next morning Peter opens his eyes and looks up at the ceiling. For a long minute, he feels confused because he doesn't know where he is. He was staring at the mold on the ceiling in the warehouse so long that he still remembers every little detail of the gross pattern. But this ceiling is different. It's white and clean. Right. He's at the Tower. Where he has a real bed and not just an old mattress. That must be the reason why he has had such a good sleep. He even forgot about his injuries.
He smiles and closes his eyes again enjoying the warmth and softness of the blankets and pillows. People don't appreciate beds enough. They feel like heaven.
"Good morning, Peter," Friday cheerfully greets him. "Boss is already in the kitchen, if you would like to join him for breakfast."
Peter's smile grows even bigger. Sleeping in bed and breakfast? Could this day get any better?
"Thank you, Friday. I'd love that."
"I'll let him know."
As the boy slowly gets out of bed, he wonders how much his life has changed in the last 24 hours. Yesterday he woke up in the warehouse with the same thought as every morning since Aunt May's death: how much he wished his life was normal like before. Peter has never wished for too much, he has never wanted to live in luxury. Never in a penthouse in the middle of Manhattan. He wanted normal things: like a place to stay, enough food and most of all, at least one person with him who he could talk to.
And now it seems he has got everything he wanted. And even more: that one person who has found him is Tony Stark! His all-time idol! Life was shit yesterday, but today? It' freaking awesome! Maybe too good to be true. Actually, Peter thinks he might wake up any minute now and then he will find himself back at the warehouse. He wouldn't be surprised. Considering his luck and all the shit that happened to him, it wouldn't be shocking.
But even if it's only a dream and in real life he's back where he belongs: on the old mattress, he should enjoy this dream as long as he can. He can face reality later.
The door opens and Mr. Stark enters with a smile on his face.
"Morning, kid. Friday says you're ready for breakfast."
The man walks to the wheelchair in the corner and pushes it to the bed.
"You know I could just use my web shooters and swing into the kitchen," Peter suggests jokingly.
"Yeah, I kinda like all the fragile things in the apartment, so let's not risk them," Mr. Stark winks and helps him into the wheelchair.
Peter doesn't know what is more embarrassing. The fact that he needs Mr. Stark's help or that the man is so annoyingly patient with him. He should be grateful, he knows that and he is. It's just so awful to feel this helpless. Pathetic. Isn't he a superhero?
"I hate this so much," he grunts when he's finally settled in the wheelchair.
"I understand," Mr. Stark says as he pushes him out of the room. "But don't forget about your advanced healing. Without that you'd need this chair for weeks and not only for a few days. Consider yourself lucky. Living in casts for weeks is not fun, I can assure you."
Peter has always considered Mr. Stark a superhero. An invincible man. Power, strength and confidence radiate off of him all the time. It's easy to forget that there's a mere human in the Iron suit, a human who is vulnerable.
"So what do you want for breakfast?" Mr. Stark asks when they arrive at the kitchen.
"Could you make waffles, maybe?" Peter asks shyly. "If it's not too much trouble."
"Waffles coming up," Mr. Stark grins.
Peter loves how real this dream feels. And how amazingly normal it seems. Sitting at the table eating sweet, warm waffles, while Mr. Stark is drinking his coffee next to him. How utterly normal it is. The best dream he has ever had. He hopes he'll never wake up.
And no matter how much time passes, the dream doesn't want to end. Not that Peter would complain.
Because after breakfast they're just chilling on the couch, talking about everyday stuff. Mr. Stark asks the boy about school, his job at the store and patrolling as Spiderman. Peter guesses the man carefully tries to avoid sensitive issues like his family. But Peter doesn't mind. It's something he doesn't want to talk about anyway. At least, not for now.
He glances at the clock on the wall. It's already 11am. Shouldn't Mr. Stark be somewhere?
"I'm right where I wanna be, kid," the man beside him chuckles.
Shit, did he say that out loud?
"I'm sorry, Mr. Stark," the boy apologizes blushing. "I just… I just thought you must have something to do at SI… or with the Avengers. And I don't want to hold you up. I'm good. I mean I'm sure I can manage if you need to go. You don't have to stay with me. Not that I would want to tell you what to do, this is your home, of course you can stay if you want, I just-"
"Relax, kid" Mr. Stark laughs again. "I have no SI today. Or Avengers. The Avengers are not even in the country anyway."
"Really? Where are they?" Peter asks in awe. How cool is it to discuss the Avengers with Iron Man?
"Fanboying already, huh?" Mr. Stark snorts. "Who is you favorite Avenger, kid? Come on, out with it!"
Peter rolls his eyes. "Iron Man, of course. That's the correct answer, right?"
"As long as you live under my roof, yes," the man grins. "But I guess Bruce is a close second, right?"
"Dr. Banner is so awesome!" Peter starts. "His thesis on-"
"Okay, okay, enough," Mr. Stark waves him off. "Thank God, the others are not at the Tower now. I don't think I could hold you back from harassing them. On second thought, I'm pretty sure they would love that. Anyway, Cap and Sam are on a military base somewhere in Europe, training utterly normal, unenhanced soldiers. Poor guys. Romanoff is in Kazakhstan, undercover mission. Wait, that was three days ago. She might be somewhere else now. Barton is staying with his family for a while and Thor… probably not even on the planet. Are you happy now?"
Peter's mouth falls open, his eyes grow wide. "It's… so… awesome. So… cool," he stammers.
Mr. Stark sits back with his eyes closed, hands clasped behind his neck and a smug grin on his face. "Yeah, I guess."
"I'm sorry to bother you, boss," Friday announces. "Miss Potts asked me to inform you that she can take over your business trip to Singapore, as you requested. She is going to call you later."
"Okay, thanks, Fri," Mr. Stark says launching to his feet and he walks to the kitchen to refill his mug.
Peter feels a sudden urge to jump up and try to assure the man again that he can take care of himself and Mr. Stark doesn't have to reschedule his whole life because of him. Iron Man might not have a mission for now, but Mr. Stark still has SI and Peter doesn't want him to put everything on hold just because he's here. He doesn't want to be a burden.
"You should go, sir," he blurts out.
Mr. Stark turns to him with a now full mug in his hand and raises his eyebrows.
"I mean to Singapore," Peter quickly clarifies. He certainly didn't mean that Mr. Stark should leave now. "I'll be alright. You don't have to worry about me. You don't have to stay with me."
"I thought we already discussed that," the man shakes his head smiling. "I kinda start feeling bad, kid; you always want to kick me out."
This does make Peter jump up. No, that's not what he meant! Of course not. He wouldn't dare to imply anything like that. And he needs to make Mr. Stark understand that.
But as he inattentively puts weight on his injured leg, hot pain flares up along the broken limb and he drops back on the couch whimpering. He squeezes his eyes shut and breathes heavily waiting for the pain to stop.
He can hear Mr. Stark running back and crouching down beside him. "Are you okay, Pete? How are you feeling? Should I call Bruce? Talk to me, kid," he begs anxiously.
"I'm fine," he mutters. And he is. At least, he's getting there as the pain slowly fades away. He opens his eyes. Mr. Stark is there, worry written all over his face. Peter gives him a small, reassuring smile. "I really am. It's better now. I just forgot about the stupid leg."
Mr. Stark nods unimpressed and settles back on the couch next to Peter. The boy rolls his eyes, feeling annoyed with himself. So much for convincing Mr. Stark that he can go on with his life, because Peter doesn't require all of his attention.
"I'm sorry," he murmurs.
The man snorts. "For what this time?"
"I don't want to be a burden, Mr. Stark," the boy explains quietly, lowering his head. "I feel like I'm keeping you from living your life."
Mr. Stark laughs. That makes Peter's eyes shoot up at him. Is Mr. Stark laughing at him? Is he mocking him? Here he is telling how guilty he feels for imposing and Mr. Stark is laughing?
"Aw, kid," the man smiles at him. "You're not keeping me from anything. You're not a burden. You know what would have been a burden, though? That trip to Singapore. Can you imagine how boring it would be to spend four days in conference rooms? As soon as Pepper told me to go, I started to look for an excuse to back out. And you provided me one, so thank you for saving me from a super boring trip. And Pepper's going to Shanghai anyway, so she doesn't mind. I'm pretty sure she knew it was only a matter of time before I found a way out. She knows me well."
"So Miss Potts knows about me," Peter remarks. He doesn't dare to ask about her opinion, though.
"Yes. And she would love to meet you," Mr. Stark says. Peter flinches back. "Oh, kid, don't give me that look! It's not a bad thing. Yesterday I told her everything because I needed her help with the documents. And to keep the press away. She's much better at that stuff than I am. She's much better at many things, but that's not the point now… Anyway, she was shocked. And worried. Because of you, not me," he quickly clarifies, which earns a confused look from Peter. "She thinks I'm irresponsible and if this whole thing doesn't work out because of me, you'll get hurt. She's right. Like I told you before, I'm not sure I'm the one you need, Pete."
The man gives him a sad smile, pats him on his right leg and then walks back to the kitchen to grab his coffee that has probably gone cold by now. For a few minutes, none of them says anything.
This is all so fucked-up, Peter thinks. He hates the idea of people saying mean things to Mr. Stark because of him. Mr. Stark doesn't deserve that. He has been only nice to him. Peter doesn't want him to feel bad when he does the right thing. It's not fair.
He looks up at the man. "But you just want to help me."
Peter wants to say so much more. He wants to thank him, he wants to say how grateful he is. He knows he has already said that a thousand times, but it's not enough. It'll never be enough.
He doesn't have a chance to say anything, though. Because Mr. Stark is already back on the couch next to him, grabbing a tablet from the coffee table and giving Peter a huge smile.
"Alright, kid. We have work to do. We need to order you a bunch of stuff. Starting with a new wardrobe. Come on, let's see all the available Iron Man merch."
So what do you think? Let me know, please, you know I love reviews!
In the next chapter we will have a guest, one of the Avengers will make an appearance. Can you guess which one? No, it's not Bruce this time.
And if you can't get enough of Irondad & Spiderson, check out my oneshot that I posted a few days ago. Okay, that's shameless self-promotion, I know and I'm sorry, but it would mean a lot if you read that, too.
Thank you for reading!