Hey!

Well, I have to admit, I was not expecting to write and post quite so quickly, but I found myself reading several stories wherein the entire world feels the need to lecture Tony on his irresponsibility for taking Peter to Germany.

Now, understand, I completely agree. I understand where he was coming from in theory, but it was still an ill-advised decision.

However: I hate/loathe/despise the fact that so many people think it's fine to treat Tony like an idiot and talk to him like he's stupid, and I hate even more the stories that have him just meekly accepting that. So . . . I present:

Not a Child

When James Rhodes, aka War Machine, discovered Spiderman's civilian identity, it happened under less-than-auspicious circumstances — and he was, to put it mildly, seriously pissed off. Like the professional he was, however, he said nothing about this revelation until the mission was successfully finished, clean-up was safely handed over to the company hired for that specific purpose, and the post-op debriefing was done.

Once all the professional Avengers business was completed, he watched with narrow eyes as Tony and Spiderman, one Peter Parker, aged 15, exited the room and headed directly for the penthouse so they could change and eat before, from their conversation, going to the lab to start making notes on possible upgrades for both of their suits. Rhodes wasn't stupid; he knew perfectly well that Tony was avoiding this conversation and damned if the colonel was going to allow that. His idiot friend had recruited a literal child to fight Rogers and his band of merry morons in Germany, which was more than bad enough, but then he'd compounded that stupidity by not only giving him Stark tech, but was also bringing the boy on Avengers' missions.

Clearly, someone needed to inform one Anthony Edward Stark that he was a fucking moron, selfish, self-centered, and too impulsive for everyone's good, since he'd learned nothing from the disaster of Leipzig Airport.

Rhodes had to actually jog to catch up to them and he still had to wait for the elevator, but he managed to catch them both after they'd changed into street clothes. Hearing Tony blithely ordering enough food for a college football team while trading friendly insults with Peter only irritated him more and his voice was sharp when he said, "Tony, I need to speak to you privately. Now."

Now, in Rhodes' defense, Tony had always been accepting of the necessity of his friends bringing him down a peg or three when his arrogant behavior got out of hand.

"No."

So hearing Tony's refusal, delivered in a dark, cold voice, caught Rhodes more than a little by surprise.

"I—" he began, only to be steamrolled over by a visibly angry Tony, with Peter standing silently at his shoulder, looking at Rhodes with a kind of contemptuous judgement that he couldn't even begin to process, it was so unexpected.

"No," he said again, sounding dangerous in a way that Rhodes hadn't heard in . . . since the first time Tony had spoken Rogers' name after Siberia. "We're not doing this. You seem to think that you have some kind of moral superiority and the right to lecture me about the stupidity of bringing a child to war, because of course, it isn't possible that I've already considered that and chewed myself out for it a few dozen times. And there's no possible way that Peter and I have talked about it, or that his aunt and I have discussed it. No, clearly I'm utterly oblivious to my so—intern's age, even though we're standing in my penthouse, where he has his own room, and has been working directly with me for over a year now."

Tony paused, the ice in his eyes somehow getting both colder and harder, and Rhodes swallowed, suddenly feeling ashamed. He had thought exactly that, and it was humbling to be forced to realize that despite old habits, Tony wasn't actually a child. Nor was he stupid. And actually, when it came to other people, he wasn't even that impulsive. Before he could follow that last thought any further, Tony kept going.

And Rhodes' shame burned hot and thick as his own hubris, his own arrogance, was shoved back down his throat.

"In the normal course of events, no, I wouldn't have brought Peter to Germany," Tony began, making a very obvious effort at tamping down his anger. "But when I first went to see him, all I knew was his name and the fact that he'd been successfully operating as Spiderman for more than six months, protected by nothing but a onesie, and I genuinely thought he was a college student. So when I talked to his aunt first, because Peter wasn't home yet, I told her he'd been accepted for an SI grant and internship, and I was there to escort him to a weekend convention in Germany. Yes, I lied to her, but I didn't know if she knew his secret and since I thought he was a legal adult, we can all agree that at that moment, it wasn't my responsibility to tell her. That . . . that came later," he added quietly, shame flickering across his face, and Peter stepped forward, squeezing his shoulder and murmuring something that Rhodes couldn't hear. Whatever it was did the trick, because Tony's expression lightened a bit.

"So then here Peter comes, waltzing through the front door, in all his high school glory — and I cannot say a damned thing, because I've already set the stage. And, frankly, I needed the help. Ah-ah-ah!" he snapped, cutting Rhodes off before he could object, even though he didn't know what he actually wanted to say. "Before you bristle at me, look me in the eye and tell me that you thought for a second that Rogers would go that far off the rails," he challenged, eyes blazing now, and Rhodes slowly shook his head, because he hadn't expected Rogers to just start throwing punches. And now that he was thinking back, he also remembered hearing Tony instruct Spiderman to web away that damned shield, but other than that, to stay on the sidelines and not engage.

Which meant . . . he had tried to keep the kid safe. It wasn't like anyone could have predicted that bastard Rogers would drop a gangway on his head with no warning. Or that Spiderman would hold his own against Wilson and Barnes with no real trouble or injury.

But he was still a child, not of legal age, and Tony had had no right to bring him into that situation.

"We can argue right and wrong all day, Rhodey," his friend said quietly, suddenly sounding very tired. "But here's the thing: it's done and over with. I can't go back and change it, and honestly? I don't want to. Too much good has from it, you know?" he added almost shyly, giving Peter an affectionate look that shocked Rhodes out of a year of life; Peter ducked his head, a smile curving his lips, before he bumped his shoulder against Tony's in silent solidarity. The older man grinned in reply and ruffled the kid's hair, ignoring his faint squawk of indignation, before once more fixing Rhodes with his gaze, now dark and serious. "But you don't get to lecture me about it, or treat me like a child who needs to be told that touching a hot stove is bad. I'm not stupid, Rhodes, or oblivious. I know exactly what could have happened and at the time, my choices were grabbing a razorblade in my bare hands, or a live electrical wire. I made the best decision I could and now I have to live with that."

"So do I," Peter suddenly interjected, moving to stand next to his da—mentor, and giving Rhodes his own hard look. "When Mis—when Tony first came to ask me to go with him, I could have refused and made some excuse for my aunt. He wouldn't have stopped me, or tried to change my mind. Hell, he almost talked himself out of it after I made some stupid excuse about homework, when I finally put together the thing with the Accords and him asking me to show Rogers that other heroes supported them. I had to make that choice, and I chose to go with him. Did I know what was getting into?" he asked rhetorically, nodding at Rhodes' pained expression. "Not really. But neither did you or Tony. On the flight over, he explained exactly why he'd asked me to come and what he expected to happen, and I still could have backed out if I'd wanted; he wouldn't have forced me to join you guys, after all," he said a touch scornfully, making Rhodes mentally squirm at that uncomfortable truth. Not for a second did he think Tony would have done so, but the fact that the kid felt the need to make that point . . . well, it didn't speak highly of his opinion of Rhodes, and after the revelations he'd just heard, the man couldn't blame Peter for feeling that way.

Oblivious to his thoughts, the young man kept talking. "It wasn't supposed to be a fight, and you don't get to blame anyone for it but Rogers and the idiots following him. And yeah, Tony and I had some issues after that, which we had to work out. And yeah, my aunt flipped out when she found out I was Spiderman and Tony had been helping me. But we, the people directly involved, have worked it out. And you know what? None of that is your business. You don't have to like it, but you don't get a say in it. And if you feel that you can't keep working with me in the field, then fine; I'll work exclusively with Tony. We've done that before with no problems, so . . ."

Rhodes blinked in astonishment at what he'd just heard as the kid trailed off, his points made. He hadn't been schooled so brutally since a week before graduating from boot camp, and he didn't like it. Especially given that it had come from a teenager who couldn't legally drive.

But it was warranted, and they all knew it. The fact that both a 45-year-old man and a 15-year-old boy had been the ones to tag-team him and burn the arrogance out of him was . . . humbling.

"You're my best friend, Rhodey," Tony told him quietly, stepping forward and finally showing some emotions that weren't anger, though that hadn't completely faded. "And you know that I respect you and your opinion. But I'm done with you — I'm done with everyone — acting like I'm a man-child who can't think for myself every time I make a decision you don't like, agree with, or immediately understand, and telling me how stupid and arrogant and foolish I am while acting like none of you have ever made a bad decision in your lives, or fucked something up beyond repair. I'm sick of being treated like I'm the only person who ever makes bad choices, and I'm tired of the automatic assumption that everything I decide to do is a bad decision, without anyone bothering to ask questions or even take five minutes to think about it and try to see my perspective. I've put up with it for way the hell too long, and I'm done. It stops now.

"For what it's worth," he continued, tilting his head back and giving a rueful smile that made something deep in Rhodes' chest ache, "I've had this exact same conversation with Pepper. And I don't mind you guys challenging me if you don't understand. I know I need that sometimes. But this? The talking down to me like I'm stupid, the explaining to me just how dumb I am for deciding something for myself that you wouldn't do? No. Because while Romonova and Rogers made that their personal method for 'managing me'," he sneered, eyes flaring in remembered resentment . . . just before he verbally punched Colonel James Rhodes to hard in the throat, he couldn't breathe for a solid two minutes.

"You and Pepper and even Happy did it first."

Shame rose in the colonel's throat, hot and thick and smothering. He tried hard to shove it down, but the memory of his condescension and snide superiority when Tony was trying to explain why he'd decided to shut down SI's weapons production would not be pushed aside. He'd done a lot of damage to their relationship that day, even though Tony had never explicitly called him out on it, and one day, he'd have to truly sit down with his friend and talk it out. And then apologize, because he had been a world-class jerk about it.

But not today; he had different apology to make now.

"You're right," he rasped, his voice thick with shame and remorse. "You're right. I don't — I can't be okay with a literal child fighting the kind of threats we handle, but that's for me to deal with. I would like to meet your aunt," he said to Peter, temporarily redirecting the conversation, and feeling gratified when the young man blinked once in obvious surprise before nodding in instant, understanding acceptance, before turning his full attention back to the man he had wronged so heinously. "But you're right, Tony: I've gotten in the habit of trying to manage you like you're still that kid I met at MIT, and you aren't. Neither of us are."

His eyes guarded, Tony slowly nodded. It was clear he didn't completely trust what he was hearing and Rhodes couldn't blame him, given not just their shared history, but Tony's history with just about everyone in his close circle. Did it hurt, not immediately having his best friend's support and unconditional trust? Yeah, it hurt like hell. But Rhodes only had himself to blame for letting himself become the man who didn't truly trust or respect his best friend, and so he had no right to complain that he'd lost those things, or that it was obviously going to take time to rebuild them.

But James Rupert Rhodes had never backed down from a challenge in his life, and Tony Stark would always be worth the effort.

"I'm gonna get better, Tones," he vowed, straightening his posture and holding that intense gaze with his own, eyes burning with promise. "I will. But it's gonna take time, and effort, and I'm gonna mess up on occasion. When I do, I want you to call me on it, okay? I mean that, Tony," he insisted when distrust and uncertainty flickered across his friend's face, hating that both emotions were warranted. "I do. But more than that, I need you to not give up on me. You're right: it's an old habit and those don't break overnight. I wish I could, but . . . well. Can you give me that, Tones?" he beseeched, leaning forward a little to emphasize how serious he was, how much he meant what he was saying. "Will you trust me enough to wait until I catch up with you?"

There was a long moment of stillness. But Tony Stark's heart had more room than the vastness of space, and he loved James Rhodes like no one else. Not even Pepper or Peter. So after an eternity of searching Rhodes' eyes, his best friend nodded and then caught him in a completely unexpected hug.

"Of course I will, Platypus," Tony mumbled into his shoulder. "Of course I will."

And with that, James Rhodes' world righted itself, at least for the time being. He had a difficult road ahead, but not once would he let that deter him. Along the way, he also acquired a nephew that he adored beyond reason and would swear on a stack of Bibles had to be Tony's biological son, because he just had to be. But he also acquired a new appreciation for not just Tony's genius, but his tactical skills and business acumen. And this time, when he told Rhodes that there was another alien invasion headed their way, the colonel listened to him, believed him, and started reaching out so they could be prepared.

When Thanos came, he sauntered straight into a trap that he didn't walk out of.

And it was made possible because the world was finally forced to accept the fact that Tony Stark was not a child.

~~~
fin