Sorry for the formatting with the text conversation. I hope it's not too confusing. 's formatting options do not lend themselves well to a 3-way conversation...

Well that had been an adventure. Mary Parker had been surprisingly difficult about Peter "going to the Compound with the other interns" and had refused permission, wanting to know why everything was last minute. Tony (who was standing in the background, listening in and prompting the very-surprised-to-be-called-back-in intern director) had finally called in the big guns, and had Pepper come talk to Mrs. Parker directly. He thought he'd sensed less animosity and even some grudging respect when Pepper had walked through and briefly greeted the Parkers at the Gala, and was hoping to cash in on that.

Thankfully his hunch played out, and Mrs. Parker had finally given permission, as long as they didn't have to provide any transportation. Pepper had assured her that meals would be provided, that he'd be paid extra for the weekend hours, and that he'd be returned home Sunday night in time for school.

When Pepper hung up the phone, she glared at him and said, "Don't you ever make me do something like that again." Which he found ironic, considering she did "something like that" all the time. Just because it involved a minor was no reason to make such a fuss. He thought all of this to himself, and very quietly and meekly followed her back to the penthouse. At least she was staying the night.

He poured her a drink in the kitchen and brought it into the living area, where she was settling on the couch after changing into more comfortable pajamas.

"Tony, this could go really, really badly. Aren't there some authorities we could involve instead of ourselves? Right now we really don't have a legal leg to stand on if they find out and press charges. It could be considered kidnapping." She pressed a hand to her closed eyes.

"Sorry, Pep. I'm not sure what to do yet. His enhancements really complicate things."

"I'm aware. And I don't think you're doing the wrong thing, I'm just not sure what's going to happen if it all goes south. But that poor kid. He's been dealing with all of this without his parents? What did he think was happening to him?" she asked rhetorically. Obviously they hadn't had a chance to debrief him on his experience so far.

"Hey, why don't you come sit on the floor in front of me here, and I'll rub your shoulders? You look like you've got a headache," Tony suggested carefully.

"How'd you guess?" she asked caustically. The grateful smile she shot him before she settled on the floor between his knees helped him know she wasn't actually mad at him.

Tony's thumbs dug into her shoulders, and she whined slightly. "Too hard?"

"No, it's about right. It just hurts."

He softened up just a bit anyway, and tried to work out some of her knots while he worked on some of the tangled thoughts in his head. FRIDAY was a dear, as always, and put on a light episode of one of Pepper's favorite sitcoms for her to focus on.

"Pep, I'm really worried about him. I mean, the whole mutation and powers thing aside, which is huge, I'm worried that his parents might go easily from 'uninterested and borderline neglectful' to being a threat to him, if they find out about him."

"Honey, I feel that, and I don't think you're wrong. But what can you possibly do about it?"

Tony sighed, and moved his fingers down to the outside of her upper back where he knew she carried her stress so often.

Pepper hissed and leaned forward, slightly away from him. He softened his grasp and tugged her back gently, working the muscles more carefully until she relaxed under his hands.

"I appreciate your help tonight, and your support," he said softly. "Let's hope the kid can heal as quickly as he thinks he will, and hopefully it won't come up yet. Maybe I can talk to him about backing off on the Spider-man stuff for now, with how complicated the whole parent-thing is."

"That would be a good idea," she agreed. She was quiet for a moment, then tilted her head. "Is there any way SHIELD would get involved? Even though he's a minor?"

"Ugh. Do we even want that?"

"You'd know more than me, but you might have to pick between 'not great' and 'bad' if it comes to that," she said quietly.

"You're right. It's a good option to be aware of. Fury owes me some favors. If it gets to that point, maybe they'd throw their hat in the ring to keep Peter out of his parents' hands."

Tony sighed and shifted, glancing at the door. He didn't say anything, but Pepper wasn't fooled.

"Do you need to check on him?"

"FRIDAY said he'd gone to sleep after eating, and that he'd texted his friends first," Tony said, unsure.

"What did he tell them? Do they know about all the vigilante stuff and the powers?"

"I haven't exactly had a chance to chat with him about all the details," Tony reminded her, leaning back against the couch. He was going to remedy that as soon as possible, though. If he was sticking his neck out like this, he'd like to know exactly what he was dealing with.

She climbed up on the couch next to him and snuggled into his side. "Thanks. My head does feel better."

He turned his chin for a kiss.

"Mm. Do you need to check on him, or can we actually get to bed before midnight?"

"FRIDAY? Report on the kid?"

"He's been asleep for 45 minutes, Boss, and doesn't show any signs of waking."

"Will you notify me if he wakes for more than a couple minutes, or if he's distressed or needs something the nurses can't help with?"

"Of course."

"You're the best.'

"Hey, I thought I was the best," Pepper complained, her eyes light with amusement.

"Um, FRIDAY is currently the best AI in my life. You are definitely the best human, and I think we should absolutely go to bed now."

"Good answer."

She stood up and reached down to help him up. Tony smiled at her, so glad she was here with him. What would he have done about Peter tonight without her help?

"You're amazing. You know that, right?"

"I've suspected a few times, but it's nice to hear it. You're sure it's not just 12% of amazing?" she teased as they walked down the hall.

"Like 110% amazing."

"Oh, is that so?"

He squeezed her hand and smiled at her when she looked back, hoping the appreciation and love showed on his face.

Peter woke up disoriented. His head felt fuzzy, and he wasn't in his own bed. Oh. Oh . The previous day's events came crashing back, and he reached for his phone on the bedside table. His back ached with the motion, and his eyes were drawn to the splint on his arm. Right. His injuries. He modified how he was moving until the discomfort eased, and laid back down, opening his messages. Sheesh, why were there so many?

A SCORPION guy? Are you kidding? What happened? How are you injured?

That is the coolest thing ever

I mean as long as you're okay You are okay right?

What kinds of injuries, Peter?

You'd better tell us when you're awake so we know you're not dead

Peter are you SAFE with Mr. Stark knowing? Was this a good idea? Does anyone else know?

He'd a good guy MJ

*He's

Peter said he's taking care of him.

Maybe, but I have my doubts. You'd better text us when you wake up.

Or call so you can tell us about the scorpion guy

Was that the coolest?

I just saw it on the news! Iron Man AND Black Widow came to help? You were holding out on us!

He slammed you against the concrete Peter. How are you okay?

Dude let him sleep

If he hasn't answered any of this I'm sure he's asleep

If I find out later that you were up for hours and didn't let us know you were still okay you are in so much trouble

Oh my goodness, his friends were crazy. His heart warmed knowing they were worried about him. He sighed, and responded carefully.

Hey guys

Sorry, I think the morphine made me extra tired and I just woke up

What time was it? He glanced at the clock on his phone. 7:40 AM. Ugh. Too early for a Saturday. But still some decent sleep. And he didn't know if he was still getting any drugs (he eyed the IV port warily) but he hurt less than yesterday. Hopefully his healing had really kicked in in the night. He moved all the fingers in his arm experimentally. A little sore, but not really painful. He wondered if they'd take more x-rays today. He'd love to see the progress from yesterday's films, if they'd let him.

I haven't talked to anyone today but since they let me sleep I'm guessing my parents said it was okay for me to stay

I think a couple bones in my back were maybe cracked and my arm was broken

They're both feeling okay this morning though

Mr Stark let me order like 4 cheeseburgers last night before I went to sleep so that was awesome

The doctor is really nice and she said she'd be back today

Not sure what else to tell you guys except I'm fine

Dude it's so early

But I'm so glad you're okay

Can we video chat later or like come see you or anything?

Your parents aren't gonna call and ask us questions right?

Cause I'd need to get my story straight.

Peter grinned at Ned's question. He had the best friends ever.

No, they're not gonna call. They don't even have your numbers. I don't think they even know your last names, so you're safe.

But what if Stark kidnaps you or you disappear or something? Is that a good thing or a bad thing, and in that case, what's the story?

Apparently MJ was awake too.

Um, I don't think that's happening.

But if I disappear or something, and Mr. Stark's not the one asking you guys what happened to me, you never heard from me and I'm probably okay. Ish?

That was a weird thing to consider. Why was MJ even thinking of that?

There was a soft knock on the doorframe, and Mr. Stark stuck his head in. "Peter?"

He's here. Gotta go.

Update us later!

"Uh, hey, Mr. Stark. What's up?"

His mentor walked into the room, wearing jeans and an old t-shirt, and looking sleep-rumpled. "You're looking awfully chipper this morning after breaking your back and arm, and bleeding all over my suit last night," he said cautiously.

"What? Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry! Did it clean off okay? I can work on it in the lab if I need to, because—"

"Peter. Stop." Mr. Stark looked amused but also exasperated.

It had come to be kind of a common look from him, so Peter just shut up and smiled nervously. "Um, did you sleep well?" He looked down at the controls on the bed and pushed the button that he thought would help him sit up a little more. He was pretty sure he could do it on his own, but it would be awkward and scooty, and might hurt his back a little, so he decided to let the bed do the work.

"I did, actually. You?"

Oh. The feet were going up instead of the top. That's not what he wanted. He gritted his teeth, pushing the opposite button to re-lower the feet. "Yeah. I mean, I think so? I don't really remember much after I ate and laid down."

"Morphine can do that. Are you hungry?"

He tried another button. No, that was laying him down more. "Again, the answer is always 'yes,'" Peter said sheepishly, setting the remote down as unobtrusively as he could.

Mr. Stark gave him a pitying look and moved forward to pick the remote up and turned it around, placing it in Peter's hand, and touching the top button. Oh. He'd been using it upside down. No wonder it didn't work. "Well, that's just poor design, if a patient can't tell which way is up," Peter muttered.

Mr. Stark tilted his head, mouth quirking in amusement. "Fair point. What do you want for breakfast?"

"Anything is fine. Pop-tarts? Cereal?" Peter pressed a button, and this time it did sit him up. Finally.

Mr. Stark tilted his head to the side and looked at Peter incredulously. "Kid, with your energy needs, you probably need a ton of calories, and a good balance of protein, carbs, and fat. Pop-tarts are not on the menu."

"Um, okay? I like pretty much anything," Peter said, not smiling anymore. Weren't calories just calories?

Mr. Stark started pacing the room slowly, his eyes unfocused. "FRIDAY, scrambled eggs, bacon, whole wheat toast, fruit. Did Dr. Banner run those energy calculations yet?"

"Yes, Boss. He said without further tests, his best guess is that Peter needs approximately 10% more calories per day than Captain Rogers, split into four to five smaller meals throughout the day."

Oh. That was interesting. He was supposed to be eating more than Captain America? But he was huge…

"Do the math, FRI, and send up appropriate portions. Milk or juice, Pete?"

"Juice, I guess. Could I… could I get some cheese on my eggs?"

"Absolutely. Pretty much anything my doctor says not to eat, you should eat a lot of," Mr. Stark muttered, looking around the room for something. He raised an eyebrow at the plastic chair against the wall, and walked over next to Peter's hospital bed again.

Peter just sat there awkwardly, having no idea what was going to happen next.

Mr. Stark blew out a breath slowly, and finally really looked at Peter, his laser focus causing Peter's breath to catch as he sat frozen in his mentor's gaze.

"You up for a little talk?"

Crap. Here it was. Breathe. "Uh, yes, sir."

"I'm gonna sit here, so you can move the leg," Mr. Stark said, tilting his head down at Peter's left leg.

Peter quickly curled his leg up under him, and pulled the blanket towards him, smoothing the empty spot.

Mr. Stark partially sat down, one knee up on the bed and the other still settled on the floor.

Peter picked nervously at a small snag in the coverlet across his lap, wondering if this was where Mr. Stark told him his parents were on their way to get him, or that there was some government agency that was coming to take him into custody, or even that Mr. Stark couldn't have him working in his lab anymore, now that he knew he was enhanced. And not even a "normal" enhancement like Captain America's, which was done on purpose, and probably with lots of careful research and oversight. Peter had more in common with that crazy scorpion villain from yesterday than he did with Captain America. For all he knew, he was going to keep changing until he finally turned into a crazy spider mutant instead of a person. Maybe his brain would become more like a spider's too. What if he started hurting people like that? Of course Mr. Stark didn't want him in the Tower anymore.

He got it, he did. But he was going to miss his time here so much, and miss spending the time with his mentor. And what in the world would he tell his parents? That was, assuming that they didn't find out about his enhancements. Which would be worse? Being in government custody and having no idea what they'd want to do with him, or being back with his parents, and submitting to whatever they wanted to do test-wise? He thought he'd rather stay with them. At least things would be familiar, and maybe he could even just stay in his room, and maybe let him see his friends still. Or he could at least talk to them. Better the "hard" that he knew than the "might be worse" that he didn't. He was alarmed to see that a spot of wetness had darkened the blanket he was staring down at. His suddenly blurry vision explained the wetness.

"Pete."

He finally glanced back up at Mr. Stark, who had been uncharacteristically quiet.

What he saw surprised him. Mr. Stark's eyebrows were lowered, but raised at the inner corners. He was frowning, but not in an angry way. He looked… sad? Sad that Peter was going to go away? Would Mr. Stark miss him?

"Oh, kid. Don't cry, buddy," Mr. Stark said softly, setting a comforting hand on his blanketed leg. "Are you hurting?"

"N-n-n-no," Peter gasped out, trying to force the tears to pull back in. Trying to show that he could be brave, and that he understood the predicament he'd put his mentor in. "Um, who's coming for me? Is it my parents, or someone, uh… else?"

"What?" Now he looked surprised. "Do you want your parents to come get you? I thought—"

"No! But, I mean, I'd probably rather go with them than whoever you have to tell about me. I'd rather be home than go somewhere where I don't know anyone or—"

"Peter."

"Sorry, sir," he said, trying to let out a careful, slow breath, but his control was too shaky, and it was more of a sob. Ugh, how embarrassing. Why couldn't he just—

He registered motion as Mr. Stark moved closer as he was carefully enfolded in strong arms. He felt the man's cheek press against his head and realized he was being hugged. Oh. Even with the very slight twinge in his back, that was really nice.

"Peter, you're fine. You don't have to go anywhere. I mean, you will , tomorrow. You'll need to go home, because that's where you live. I can't legally keep you here. But we're not telling anyone your secret. All of the staff here are trustworthy and they've signed mountains of paperwork. Pepper's not telling. Dr. Banner's not telling. I'm not telling. We want to help you, bud. I don't know what that looks like yet, but we're gonna work hard not to let any of that happen to you."

His head swimming with new information, Peter's mind fixated on one of the more surprising parts of Mr. Stark's little speech. Was it a speech when someone was hugging you while they talked?

"Dr. Banner, like Bruce Banner? He knows?"

Mr. Stark pulled back as he huffed out a little laugh, and moved his hands to frame either side of Peter's head briefly so he could look into his face.

" That's what you took from that?"

Peter smiled sheepishly, and shrugged a little bit, which caused him to wince at the twinge in his back.

Mr. Stark, regrettably, pulled back and released him. It had felt amazing to have an adult hug him again. Especially one who had just promised to try to help and protect him. It had… well, it had been a while.

A few people had hugged him at the funeral. May and Ben's sweet old neighbor. A couple of May's work friends whom he'd met before. Surprisingly, Mr. Delmar. But that seemed like so long ago.

Mr. Stark was settling back against the base of the bed, folding his arms and frequently glancing at Peter's face.

Probably checking for tears. Seriously. As nice as the hug was, he was way too old to be crying about stuff like this.

"We brought Bruce on board to help study the venom, and see what he thought about how it would interact with you specifically, based on the rudimentary DNA analysis."

"You guys analyzed my blood?" Peter said, a little nervous, but mostly curious.

"Sorry we didn't ask. You were kinda being poisoned at the time," Mr. Stark said.

"No, I get that. It's okay. I—do you think maybe sometime I could see the results? I've been curious, but they don't have any of the really good analysis stuff at the school. Maybe when I'm here for my internship? If…if that's going to continue, I mean? Because I totally understand if—"

"Pete, cut it out. Nothing has changed between us, just because I found out you're putting in extra hours vigilante-ing." Mr. Stark tipped his head to the side. "Come to think of it, if I should be reporting you to anyone, it's to whoever has such strong opinions about how many hours 14-year-old students can work. Maybe they'd scare you straight," he teased.

"Mr. Stark," Peter protested, rolling his eyes.

"No, but really, Pete. Pepper and I talked about it, and we're worried about your parents, too. If it really was a spider from their lab that caused all this, coupled with you feeling unsafe, we think it might be best if you backed off on all the Spider-man stuff for a bit while we look into legal ways to keep you safe, if it's needed."

What? "Not… be Spider-man? But I just barely got it all figured out! And I've helped a lot of people! I'm strong, and I heal so fast. My arm doesn't even hurt anymore, Mr. Stark!" Peter pleaded, brandishing his splinted arm like a weapon.

"Kid, I'm not denying that you've got some crazy-amazing stuff going on. But if you get hurt like this again, on a school night for instance, or if your parents aren't as busy as they were this weekend, I don't think we could hide it from them. You gotta be smart about this. You can still go out. But I absolutely need you to stick to small-time stuff for a while. Lost pets, kites in trees, bicycle thieves, helping old ladies with their groceries."

Peter sighed in frustration and tried not to glare at the man he admired so much. Mr. Stark had been nothing but kind and encouraging to him, and Peter knew how to keep his mouth shut. "Of course, sir."

Mr. Stark was quiet for a moment. "Nah, that's not what I'm looking for."

"What?" Wasn't Peter supposed to listen to him?

"I can tell you don't agree, and I can practically see you shoving down what you want to say to me and giving me the right answer, instead. I invented that, kid, when dealing with my own father, and I refuse to be on the receiving end of it. You're worth more than that."

"I… are you saying you want me to argue with you?"

"Yeah. You don't agree with what I said. Tell me why. Give it your best shot, and we'll talk it out. Hopefully by the end of it we'll both be on the same page."

Was… was he serious? Even with May and Ben, they hadn't appreciated him arguing with them, though they'd been willing to hear his side if he still felt strongly about something later, and was really respectful about it. No adults did this. They didn't actually care what kids had to say. Was this a trap? Or did he really think Peter had something valuable to say?

"I can see your head going 80 miles an hour. It's not a trick, kid. Lay it on me."

"Okay," Peter said quietly, struggling to sit up a little taller in the hospital bed. He rapidly arranged his thoughts, trying to rank them in his head. Should he put the most compelling first or last? Should he approach something like this like an essay? He—

"Kid. It doesn't have to be the Gettysburg address. Let's just talk. I'll try not to shut you down. Call me on it, if I do."

Peter took a deep breath. Did he trust Mr. Stark? He did, actually, he realized. He was going to give this a try.

"It's completely healed?" Tony asked, looking carefully at the x-ray. Peter was craning his neck from the exam table where they'd parked him, so Tony turned the screen so he could see, too.

"This arm looks like a regular break would after about 6-8 weeks. I can still see it, but it's completely knit back together," Dr. Cho said, a little wonder in her voice. Even Steve took longer to heal, when he actually broke something, which almost never happened. Peter didn't seem to have the super-soldier hardiness, and seemed to get injured about as easily as a typical person. Those were some experiments Tony had no interest in conducting, despite his curiosity. He'd be good if he never saw the kid bleed again.

"How about the back?" He'd seen for himself that all the boy's cuts and scrapes were gone. The one heavy bleeder on his arm was still a faint line, but that was about it.

Helen pulled up another set of x-rays. "It was just cracks, and honestly I can't even see them now. How does it feel, Peter?"

"A touch sore, but it doesn't hurt when I move and reach and stuff anymore," he said.

"So does that mean you're ready to release him?" Tony asked nervously. As much as he'd like to keep Peter here for another day so he could keep an eye on him, he knew he needed to be home today, like they'd told the Parkers.

"I really can't see any reason to keep him," Helen said, shrugging.

"Okay, kid. Let's get you out of here," Tony said with a sigh.

"Time to go home?" Peter asked uncertainly. He hadn't even had a text from his mom and dad, and had no idea if they were home or working.

"Up to you, I guess. I can have Happy take you home in just a bit," he said, noncommittal.

"And if I said I don't want to go home just yet? I mean, they thought I'd be home later tonight, right?"

Tony grinned and slung his arm around the boy's shoulder, steering him towards the door. "Then I'd say why don't we order lunch and try to convince Pepper to join us in the penthouse?"

"That sounds nice," Peter said shyly, grinning up at him. "And I can go home at, like, dinner time?"

"Hmm. After we feed you, sure. We've negotiated your Spider-man activities for the next few weeks, but we still have to figure out a way to make sure you get more to eat. Good thing you're staying, so we can hammer that out."

"Yes, sir," Peter said, rolling his eyes a little.

"What did I say about that?" Tony reminded him.

"You said it's okay to argue with you when I don't agree," Peter replied glibly. "But why would I argue with you about you feeding me?"

"Maybe I liked you better before the sass."

"Nah. Everyone you like sasses you," Peter said with a small smile.

Huh. Tony rapidly thought through all his closest friends and the employees he valued the most. The kid was completely right.

"What am I gonna do with you?"

"I guess that's what we're trying to figure out."

"Yeah. Let's go do that. But wait, what about my suit?" Peter stopped, suddenly looking around like he expected the shredded costume to appear.

"Kid, it was pretty trashed. I'm not sure what they did with it," Tony answered truthfully.

Peter's face fell, and he looked sick for a moment.

"That's another thing I wanted to work on today. We need something a little more protective, and a little more functional, than what you were wearing before." He saw Peter's pained face, and hurried to soothe his teenage ego. "Though it was a really innovative first suit. Definitely top drawer effort." The smile was back.

But if you're going to be facing guys like that scorpion disaster, eventually, you need more protection. Maybe we can get some lab time in this afternoon."

"Seriously?"

"Yep."

"Best. Day. Ever." Peter whispered.

Tony smiled and tugged the teenager towards the door.

"Let's go. If I'm hungry, you must be starving."

Peter smiled and fell back into step with him.

Tony was really neck deep in it now, wasn't he?