SDMIRM

Chapter 11: Who's Refitting Who

SDMIRM

Fitz hadn't tried to activate the Spiderman suit's program menu. Ok, yes he had just been examining the suit, marveling at its flexible light weight, considering it had a Kevlar like protective bond to it. Had maybe been pointedly wanting to look at the web shooting component. When there was, literally, nothing up the sleeve, he started determinedly patting down the sleeve, trying to find the activation button. That's when his prodding accidentally triggered a hologram to display on the ceiling above.

Reading the hologram, he was enthused at the array of options built into the suit. "This is amazing!" Tilting his head farther back to read the upside-down lists, he stumbled right into the bed. Did a bit of a shriek when a hand grabbed his arm to steady him…until he realized the hand belonged to a now awake Spiderman. A Spiderman who started rambling out an apology to him when it was Fitz who was the one who fell on him!

"Oh sorry, sorry, didn't mean to scare you," Peter contritely said as he quickly released his hold on the twenty something guy. His squeaky scream when he'd steadied him, clearly said he was a hands off kind of guy.

"You didn't…" Fitz quickly denied, before he clarified what Spiderman didn't do, "….scare me, that is. Because I wasn't…course I wasn't…hey, you're awake?" Finally letting that fact sink in with his big brain.

Peter was distracted by the sight of his hands, wrapped no longer in Mr. Stark's shirt but in gauze, making him look like he was prepping for a mummy movie. "My hands ..all of them are still, right? You didn't have to do any finger amputations because I heal..like fast…from all kinds of injuries. But I've never …" Peter turned green as a new horrific scenario popped into his head, had him stammering, "..lost…lost anything.. a finger or…"

"Oh no..no, don't worry. No amputations and we noted your healing abilities rivaled Captain America's." Here Fitz contemplated a moment before confession on the quiet side, like he feared it would reach the Cap's ears. "Actually, yours might be better because you're like one hundred years younger than he is. Not to mention your metabolism was mutated by a spider bite, a mutated spider…which is truly fascinating, and I'd love to do more tests and hear how…"

Peter finally got why people had to break into one of his long-winded rambling fests, did so now with Fitz, "Mr. Stark, did you examine him? He was hurt…"

"You're awake!" came a female voice and he saw a twentysomething woman wearing a lab coat beaming at him as she entered the room.

"We already covered that," Fitz undertoned.

Having not gotten an answer about Mr. Stark, Peter intended to search for the man himself, slid his elbows behind him to lever himself up but only moved them a few centimeters before he crashed back onto the bed, gasping in pain. Wrapped hands coiling around his ribcage as the source of his agony emanated there.

Instantly, the woman's hands were on his shoulders like she thought she had to keep him pinned down. She looked upon him with worry in her expression and ordered, "No strenuous movements."

Through his pain, Peter tried again to get answers. "Mr. Stark? Is he ok? Where is he? His suit…it was broken and his arc reactor ..it was cracked, wasn't ..wasn't working at full power."

"He's alright and in the room located beside this one, resting," the woman reassured.

Though her tone was confident, Peter wasn't going to feel better until he saw Mr. Stark for himself. Knew how the man downplayed his own injuries, might not have told them how long he'd lain there in the cold, that his suit had been crushed down against his chest.

"But he wasn't alright..and if he said he wasn't hurt…" he fully intended to rat out Mr. Stark if he had to, wanted the man to get the care he needed. Tilting his head in the direction the woman had indicated, he could see a glass partition to the other room, but the woman blocked his view before he could make out anyone lying in the bed.

"I administered treatment and Fitz determined his arc reactor just needed some minor repairs," Jemma put on her best doctor confident tone, wasn't quite used to being doubting, especially by teenagers. She gave him a pass because he was young, was hurt himself and was, ok, a superhero in his own right.

Wanting to pitch in with his own knowledge and gain credit for his actions, Fitz explained, "Yes, the arc reactor was cracked and leaking power but since it no longer sustains Mr. Stark's life by keeping the shrapnel from his…"

"So his heart's ok?" Peter pressed, as fascinated as he usually was with all things Iron Man, he couldn't process everything right then. Just needed the basic information, that what he did to get Mr. Stark free of the Suit hadn't done any permanent damage.

"Yes, his heart's ok. I ran tests to confirm it," Jemma declared, keeping her hand on the boy's shoulder now, not to keep him still, but to offer comfort. She found it kind of adorable the teenager was so concerned with Mr. Stark, especially considering the boy himself was injured, had to still be in pain.

"I'll say Mr. Stark's just dandy," Fitz snorted. "He kept climbing out of bed to come check on you. Jemma finally gave him a sedative so he'd get some rest. I had no idea Iron Man and Spiderman teamed up. Even our SHEILD files didn't link you with Stark."

That statement had Peter's alarmed eyes flying to Fitz. "You..you have a file on me?" his voice doing a high pitched squeak on the 'me'.

Jemma, seeing the worry the topic evoked in Peter, countered Fitz's comment, "Not a thick file. Really quite thin." Nudged Fitz in the shoulder for him to collaborate her story

"Paper thin…like one sheet of paper..well, if it wasn't a digital file it would be," Fitz played along. "Now Mr. Stark's file.." he gave a whistle, immediately felt guilty when Peter winced at the piercing sound. "Sorry," he whispered, "forgot you're not 100%."

But Peter's mind was on Fitz's assumption about his working relationship with Mr. Stark. "We're not teamed up," he gloomily countered. "Just did it the one time in Germany. I just met him a couple days ago." Didn't think Mr. Stark would consider their time in the frozen bunker as them "teaming up", especially after the number of times Mr. Stark told him he shouldn't be there, shouldn't have hitch hiked onto the helicopter and got involved in his mission. But in Peter's mind, he and Mr. Stark had so teamed up to get out of there alive.

Fitz obstinately shot down Peter's claim. "That's impossible. You had to know Stark longer than that."

Peter's eyebrows went up, thought they would doubt he'd be worthy to know Mr. Stark at all, not think he was underbragging about their relationship. "Ah..no..no, I'm not lying." Why would he? Especially when he wished it was different, that Mr. Stark didn't think of him as a kid to be protected instead of a partner to be counted on.

Seeing the hurt in the boy's features, Jemma gently said, "Fitz wasn't accusing you of lying. Right, Fitz?" lobbing a meaningful glare Fitz's way.

"Not..no..well …but…" Fitz stammered, wasn't able to turn a blind eye to the rational conclusion he'd come to.

"Fffiitttzz," Jemma drawled in warning to her partner.

Turning to Jemma, Fitz hoped to convince her to read the facts and get the conclusion he was. "But it's not possible, them only knowing each other a few days. This suit…it's incredible! Yes, Mr. Stark is smart and probably as much of a workaholic as he is reported to be but even he couldn't have made this suit in a few day's time. It had to have been months in the making."

"What can I say, I aim to exceed all expectations," Tony broasted as he entered the room, barefoot and buttoning up his short sleeve shirt he had just drawn on. Was making his appearance just in time it seemed before Coulson's resident science geek outed him for stalking Peter way longer than when he'd knocked on the kid's apartment door.

At the sight of Mr. Stark, Peter's face brightened, and he felt elated, relieved and awash in a flood of warmth, not so dissimilar to when May had walked in the apartment door after he'd trying calling her for an hour without getting an answer and became fearing the worst. (Her phone had died, and she'd walked Mr. Trainor home after he got lost due to his Alzheimer's and sat with him until his wife got home.) "Mr. Stark! Are you alight?"

"Course. How about you kid? How are you? Following doctor's orders?" Tony lightly asked as he came to the boy's side. Was hard pressed to keep his game face on when he noted how pale Peter still was. And, without the thermal blanket covering him like it had the past hours when he had managed to escape from his bedrest mandate to stand over him, Tony could now see the boy's hands were wrapped in gauze, and there was extensive bruising glaringly evident on his chest.

To Mr. Stark's interrogation, Peter innocently responded, "No one's given me any orders," suddenly looked concerned that he might have unknowingly disobeyed an order and ended up disappointing Mr. Stark. Then he remembered the woman had issued one edict. "Well, I'm not supposed to make any strenuous movements."

Tony tilted his head, assessing the boy, sardonically teased, "What constitutes strenuous movements to YOU? Where would you draw that line? Taking on fifteen bad guys instead of ten?"

Peter smirked, almost blushing at Mr. Stark's overblown assumption. "I've never taken on more than five bad guys at one time, Mr. Stark."

To Tony, that was four too many, maybe five depending on the threat that one perp posed to Peter. "Bobbsey twins, give me a moment with my kid," he directed to Jemma and Fitz. Though Peter missed the possessive adverb in his request, Fitz and Jemma didn't, wore their shock on their faces before Stark gave them a strange, confused look, not catching his own slipup.

Realizing escape was their best response, Jemma and Fitz scampered out of the room.

"Mr. Stark, you're bleeding!" Peter pointed to Tony's arm in alarm.

Unalarmed, Tony followed Peter's line of sight. He saw a thin line of blood streaking down from the crook in his arm from where he had pulled out the IV after he heard the wonderful sound of Peter's voice. A voice that had him forgetting about his own hurting body and determined to see for himself that Peter wasn't suffering any serious effects for his heroic and reckless insistence on saving him.

Now Tony absently wicked away the blood with his thumb. "Just sprung a little leak," because his bloodletting didn't matter, Peter's every bruise and hurt did. Speaking of which, Tony couldn't help curse silently and colorfully at the motley bruises on the boy's sternum. One bruise Tony would swear was in the shape of his own hand print from when he had pressed so damn hard doing CPR to bring the boy back to life after Peter's initial electrocution. Tony had to swallow hard to not be sick, to not get coiled into a panic attack, reliving that moment, when Peter's heart took off on vacation, when Peter technically wasn't alive anymore.

Observing all the color leeching out of Mr. Stark's features, Peter immediately instructed, "Whoa, Mr. Stark, sit down," as he slid over on the bed so Tony could claim a part of the mattress.

Afraid he would pass out, do a header and land on Peter and exasperate the boy's injuries, Tony wilted down to take a seat at Peter's waist. Of course, the kid went all frantic over him.

"Did they check you out properly? Like really..really well. Because I'm not sure you confessed how hurt you were. And who knows how I might have hurt you getting you out of the suit. Did you tell them the Iron Man suit was bent and pressing against your chest, not to mention that I shocked you…"

"If anyone got shocked, it was you kid. Like twice too many," Tony corrected grimly, would have nightmares about the accidental one as much as the life affirming one.

"Twice?" Peter repeated, didn't think the charge he used to unlock the Iron Man suit had a secondary current running through it.

Tony didn't want to dwell on the fact Peter's heart had been off kilter, harmed, even momentarily. Nor did he want the kid worried. So he used a light playful description for the horrific procedure Tony had to watch the SHEILD doctor perform on this child. "Little jumper cable action to get your heart back into rhythm, but they reassured me your heart's now racing on all cylinders."

Peter looked stunned a moment, taking that info in. Then, not surprisingly, he was back to worrying about Mr. Stark. "You're heart wasn't in rhythm, I heard it when I found you. Did they get your heart straightened out too?" his anxiety palpable.

Refusing to cause Peter any further distress, Tony quipped, "Oh you know, that trip to the frozen tundra, it did wonders for my hypertension." Wanting the kid to believe it was just that, the stress of the moment. Should have known Peter was going to be too stubborn to buy that bill of goods.

"You were hurt," Peter insisted, wasn't going to allow Tony to brush off his own injuries, not if it had detrimental consequences.

"Some ribs were complaining, but you know what that's like," Tony commiserated with Peter, hoping that was the way to ease the boy's fears. You have broken ribs, I have broken ribs and we're both A-OK, schtick."Ribs tend to be attention whores, clamoring for notice whenever they can,"

"Like when an Iron Man suit is crushing them?" Peter challenged, not giving Tony an inch to deny his own pain.

"Or say …when a super-sized ant guy whacks you with his two-ton hand?" Tony parried back, almost enjoyed the blush it brought to the boy's too pale features. Would have, if he still wasn't reliving that horrifying stopgap in time when he thought the kid wasn't going to get back up after that hit, ever again.

"No..no, Mr. Stark, that can't be my final grade. I gained some points helping you today, right?" There was youthful anticipation in Peter's eyes, as if he sought to be patted on the head for his rescue antics.

But Tony couldn't write that in the all-good category. Not when it had nearly gotten Peter killed. "Well, you lost some of your extra credit points when you got bbq deep fried and terrified me. Scared spitless, it's not a great look on me. And when I have to wear that expression, it makes me cranky."

Peter shifted upright, needed to prove he wasn't deep fried, was just a little singed. "I'm fine…" he insisted but it came out a breathless claim as his ribs delivered a stabbing pain. Then his over stimulated senses morphed into a tuning fork, drawing in the hum of every single piece of machinery in the room and in the plane. Suddenly all of it was thrumming into his ears until it felt like his eardrums would burst. Falling back on the mattress, he clamped his hands over his ears and clenched his jaw tightly shut so he didn't scream at the excruciating pain tearing him apart.

When Peter collapsed back onto the bed, clutching his ears, Tony knew Peter's hearing was being overloaded. Quickly he began darting around the room, frantically turning off the medical and scientific machines surrounding Peter. He even went as far as to turn off the lights in the room before coming back to Peter. The boy had rolled to his side and drew his feet up, as if he could cocoon himself…..or curl up and die.

Tony draped himself over Peter, putting his own hands over the boy's own, hoping to further muffle the noise reaching the boy's too sensitive ears. Tony didn't dare speak, determined to blanket Peter with the absence of sound in every conceivable way. Kept coiled over the boy, his own breathing synching with the boy's hitching inhale/exhale. He didn't notice when some of the plane's other humming equipment shut down, thanks to Fitz witnessing through the glass window Peter's episode and, seeing Stark's actions, knew how to add his own assistance. Still, it was minutes before Peter took a breath that wasn't shuddering, until Tony felt the boy uncoiling from his tightly curled position.

Yet Tony hesitated to peel his hands away, feared he would do it prematurely and allow sound to once again tear the boy apart. It was after Peter's hands moved, when the boy used his forefinger and thumb to give Tony's fingers covering them a weak squeeze, indicating he could relax his hold that Tony dared lift his hands. He did it cautiously, millimeter by millimeter, prepared to slap them back in place if Peter's face creased in pain.

When the boy's head rolled his direction, Tony noted that Peter's pupils were in the process of refocusing but, thankfully, were no longer clouded with pain. But Tony didn't miss the tears welling in the brown eyes, saw the track of tears that had escaped already to drip down the boy's face onto the mattress. A pain he'd never experienced before shafted through Tony, a pain not sympathetic as much as symbiotic. The boy's pain was his pain. Dropping his voice to the lowest decibel it would go, he asked, "It better?"

Peter nodded, then winced, the diminutive gesture painful for him. His eyes suddenly darted to the door, he had heard it opening though Tony hadn't.

Tony looked over his shoulder, saw Coulson standing in the doorway, wearing a look of concern. Tony nodded, half in a gesture of 'everything is better now' and also a sign of appreciation for whatever they had done in the plane to stop Peter's pain. Giving a nod back, Coulson withdrew without saying a word.

Turning back to stare down at Peter, Tony lightly stoked his fingers down the boy's cheek, remembered his own mother doing that when he had a headache. When Peter didn't jerk away from his touch, he repeated the gesture, again and again, kept it up until the boy's eyes closed, until a non-malignant state of sleep took over him. Tony hoped his sleep held good memories because Peter deserved that, only that.

As much as he knew Coulson would have questions, maybe even deserved some answers, Tony wasn't leaving Peter's side, not even if they tried to sedate him again. He gave Coulson a warning look as he entered the room. Apparently, it got the message across or maybe wasn't needed in the first place because the SHEILD agent held both of his hands up, as if in surrender. Then, instead of approaching Tony, he silently retrieved a chair from another part of their medical section and set it down at Peter's bedside. Coulson mouthed, 'Talk later' and left the room.

Sinking into the chair like his legs were incapable of holding him up anymore, Tony bit back a heavy sigh. He had made one sure observation today: he absolutely hated seeing Peter put through the wringer. Was its own brand of torture witnessing the kid being wracked with agony over sounds the normal human ear barely registered. And it twisted Tony's insides to think how many other times Peter's senses had been under such an attack. Worse, there had been no one there to shut down the world for the kid. To even know he was suffering.

That was wholly unacceptable to Tony, the kid's suffering, let alone him suffering alone. 'But no more, of either of it,' he vowed. He'd revamp the suit's mask. Heck, he'd develop ear plugs that blocked out sound on the supersonic level that the boy could wear as Peter Parker. Because Peter might have convinced himself that Spiderman was the superstar, that that persona was the only one "worthy" of a Stark makeover, but he'd be wrong. Peter himself outshone the red suited hero, hands down, in Tony's book, and deserved his own brand of Stark refitting.

Grabbing the nearest tablet, Tony began inputting his designs for innovations he'd develop for Peter. He vowed that the kid would never again be penalized for sporting the amazing abilities he had, especially the best of the best of those abilities: Peter's awe-inspiring goodness.

But how did you protest someone's precious yet vulnerable heart from the cruelties of the world? Tony's father would most likely have said through armaments. But those said armaments, the warehouse of Stark Industries' weapons, they hadn't saved Howard Stark, or his wife. After all the weapons Howard had created, he hadn't had a single one of them there to stop a brainwashed assassin from taking his life.

That realization sobered Tony. He had the Iron Man suit but was it going to be enough to keep the people he loved truly safe? Or worse, be the very instruments to hurt them the most. The Patriot suit had crippled Rhodey. His own Iron Man suit had nearly been his own self-made coffin that day. And getting him out of the Suit had almost cost Peter his life.

Tony looked down upon the so likeable and yet so broken boy. The world was cruel, had been particularly cruel to this boy..and what was Peter's response?! He set out to save the very world that tore so many people away from him that he loved. Peter was brave enough to care, though he knew the pain that came with letting himself love anyone.

Maybe that was the bravest part of Peter: his willingness to love, regardless of what had happened when he'd dared to take that risk in the past. And darn it if he hadn't infected Tony with that same inclination, because what other explanation could there be for him to care so much for a boy he'd only come face to face with days ago. A boy whose bravery and devotion to do what was right had captured Tony's attention before he knew who was under that ski mask, spinning webs all over Queens.

It made Tony wonder if he had coincidentally undergone a little Parker refitting himself. Could fully admit, he was better for the boy's influence. It left him feeling ready to brave crossing that line, to let the boy in more fully instead of adopting his typical dickish isolation tactics. Found he totally liked himself better being the guy fretting protectively over the boy donning the Spiderman motif instead of the stooge government-yes-man that put his friends into a floating prison.

Honestly, he didn't know where he would end up as far as personal growth went, if he hung around the kid more, but he fervently wanted to find out.

SDMIRM

TBC

SDMIRM

Thanks for reading and love to my reviewers!

Have a great day!

CherylW