The school building loomed large, its brick-and-glass exterior catching the early morning sunlight. Out front, a large digital sign proclaimed that the Midtown Tech Tigers were 'number one.' It was an active campus for the beginning of August. Classes wouldn't be in session for another three weeks, but a few students milled around the front of the building. Tony assumed summer programs like sports or band must be keeping the campus lively. But he couldn't quite remember how the whole high school institution worked, since he wasn't in one for long.

Tony's gaze flickered to Peter, who stood beside him with a quiet alertness. The kid's sharp eyes took it all in with a careful, sweeping gaze. He didn't doubt the kid had absorbed every detail of the campus. He wondered if that was naturally a talent of Peter's, or if that was a remnant of his time in Hydra and somehow retained through the memory wipe. Finally, the kid's eyes landed on Tony's, wide with nerves.

Tony offered what he hoped was a reassuring smile, though he wasn't sure it landed. "You good, kid?"

Peter nodded too quickly. "Yeah. Just—a lot of people."

Tony bit back a reply that there would be a heck of a lot more students in a few weeks. The kid was already nervous, no need to freak him out more.

Security was lax without school officially in session. They walked right through wide open glass doors at the entrance. No one looked twice at them. Tony's sunglasses and ball cap were working pretty well as a disguise.

They made their way to the front office, where a chipper secretary greeted them with an eager smile. "Placement test, dear?" she asked, her voice warm as she looked at Peter.

He nodded, still wide-eyed. "Yes, ma'am."

"Wonderful. Sign in here." She pressed a pen into Peter's hands and showed him the clipboard. "One of our teachers, Mr. Harrington, will be your proctor and he'll show you to the room. The test is 180 minutes long, so head to the restroom now if you need to. Mr. Harrington will be down shortly, I'll just let him know you're here."

Peter nodded, still looking painfully nervous. "Thank you."

Tony and Peter took a seat and waited. Peter practically hummed with nervous energy. His heel took up a quick beat against the tiles, bouncing his leg rapidly.

"Settle down, Thumper."

"Sorry." Peter stilled his leg and Tony regretted stopping the kid. He looked miserably anxious. And tired. When had he gotten those dark circles under his eyes? Had he been hitting the books that hard in preparation for this test?

"You don't need to worry so much, you know. You're a smart kid, you'll get in. But even if you somehow choked and bombed the whole thing, I'd just make a strategic donation."

Peter did double take and then scowled. "That's horrible, Mr. St… Potts." The boy hissed under his breath.

"Potts, eh?"

"You wanted to keep a low profile."

"Why am I not 'Mr. Smith,' like you?"

"Because we're not related. You're my guardian." Peter's voice dropped to a mutter. "Can we stop talking? The secretary keeps looking over here."

Tony leaned in with a conspiratorial smirk. "What do you think she suspects? That you're an ex-operative trying to infiltrate the sophomore class?"

Peter's face paled as he hissed, "Shut up!" elbowing Tony so hard he almost fell out of his chair.

He bit back a laugh, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright."

The arrival of a thin, anxious-looking man spared Peter further embarrassment. "Peter Smith?" the man asked, his smile kind. "I'm Roger Harrington. I'll be administering your placement test."

Peter stood, swallowing hard as he shook the teacher's hand. He threw Tony a glance that was equal parts terrified and pleading.

Tony gave him a nudge. "Go get 'em, kid. Break a leg."

Peter winced at the phrase, his shoulders hunching slightly as he followed Mr. Harrington down the hallway.

Tony sank back into the chair, pulling out his Starkpad. He hated high schools. He'd started his freshmen year at 13 and had quickly met the graduation requirements by the time he was 15. Though unpleasant, his short high school career had gotten him away from Howard and into the relative freedom of MIT's dorms

Tony clenched his jaw. That wasn't going to be Peter's experience. The kid deserved something normal. Clubs, friends, school dances—hell, even detention. Anything that didn't involve trauma and terror.

Tony glanced at his watch. He had three hours to occupy himself while he waited. It wasn't very long but it made him antsy to be stuck in a principal's office.

He'd considered sending Happy with the kid instead, but Peter had seemed so nervous Tony didn't have the heart. Especially once they had realized the entrance exam to a science school didn't even include science and Peter had started panicking.

"Says here it's one section of language arts and one section of math." Tony had peered at the SHSAT requirements on the school brochure. "You're great at math, kid."

"But what if the language arts section requires that I know about high school reading? I haven't read any of those books kids normally read, Mr. Stark!"

"I don't think so kid. It will probably be more general."

That did little to comfort Peter. The kid admitted he was confident with numbers, but he didn't think HYDRA had cared much about his grasp of grammar. So Peter had started studying language arts after that, a stressful crash course on grammar, literary devices, poetry, and endless vocabulary drills with FRIDAY.

Tony barely saw the kid all week. Instead, every day he heard echoes of Merriam Webster entries being bounced back and forth between FRIDAY and Peter throughout the penthouse like a weird, nerdy version of Marco Polo.

Tony wasn't concerned. The kid would pass. And if he didn't, the school could use a new donor.

He stood up and paced a bit. The office was quiet but the secretary really was shooting him glances every few minutes. He hoped his disguise was still holding up, but just in case it wasn't, Tony decided to leave and wait in his car.

School offices gave him the heebee jeebees, anyway. The last time he'd waited around with a school secretary, he'd had a black eye and Howard had flipped. The bruise from his classmate had been convenient as a cover for the matching one his old man gave him that evening. Tony had been desperate for attention, any attention, from his dad—and he got it that day.

He slipped into the front seat, turned up the AC and stared unfocused at the screen of his phone, blinking at the memories of Howard's fury. Tony heaved a sigh and shook it off, intent on getting some work accomplished. It was a long time ago. It was no big deal now. He opened an email from R&D and started reading.

Three hours later, and Tony hadn't gotten as much accomplished as he had hoped, but no matter. As soon as he saw Peter exit the building and glance over at the car with a barely contained grin, Tony couldn't help but smile, too.

The kid slipped into the car, still beaming.

"You blew it out of the water, didn't you?"

Peter shrugged, trying for nonchalance but failing spectacularly. "I think I did okay."

Tony glanced at the time on the dash. "Want to celebrate?" He pulled out his phone to see what exciting thing they could get into.

"Yeah, okay. Ice cream?" Peter hesitated with a hopeful look. "And, um, pizza?"

Tony laughed, putting the phone away. "Sure thing, kiddo."


Tony had felt energized all day. Peter's giddiness was contagious, and they'd spent a long evening in the lab before Tony kicked the kid out. He looked like he was going to fall out of his seat from exhaustion. At least with all the frantic studying over, the kid could finally get some rest. He really looked like he needed it.

Tony continued working into the late hours of the night, riding a buzz of excited, productive energy. He walked past Peter's room on the way to the kitchen to make a late-night pot of coffee. It was late—or early, depending on how you looked at it, and he wasn't expecting to hear anything coming from the kid's room. He was halfway there when a faint noise stopped him in his tracks. He cocked his head, listening intently. Was Peter awake? Should he knock?

He hesitated, hand hovering near the door. If Peter was trying to get back to sleep, Tony didn't want to disrupt that. But it had been a sad sound, the pitch a little off. He knocked lightly on the door and spoke quietly. "Pete, you up?"

There was no response.

Tony cracked the door open and peered in. Peter was in bed, turned away from him. There was no way the kid was asleep, his form rising and falling in quick, shaky breaths. But he apparently wanted Tony to think he was asleep.

Tony glanced around. The room was immaculately tidy except for some books strewn about on the desk and the floor beside the bed. Was he reading just now? Did he dive for the covers to pretend he was asleep? Was he worried Tony would be mad that he was still up at almost 3am?

"You asleep, kiddo?" Tony whispered into the room, though it was plainly obvious Peter was awake. But he didn't respond and Tony wasn't going to press. Maybe the kid really was just trying to get back to sleep.

Tony closed the door and made his way to the kitchen. As the coffee machine sputtered to life, he frowned at the filling pot, distracted. "Hey, FRIDAY," he said finally. "Is Peter still awake?"

"Yes, boss," the AI replied.

Tony straightened, his frown deepening. "Is he okay?"

"He had a nightmare but appears to be calming down."

A nightmare. Not unexpected, given everything the kid had been through, but the thought of Peter sitting alone in the dark after one made Tony's chest feel uncomfortably tight. "Does he need anything?"

"I don't believe so."

Tony blew out a relieved breath, he really had no clue what to do if FRIDAY had any other answer. Peter was just trying to get back to sleep. It probably wasn't a big deal. Tony wandered down to his lab with a fresh mug of coffee and was quickly reabsorbed back into his project.


But the following night, Tony updated FRIDAY's protocols just before he fell asleep. "Let me know if Peter wakes up in the middle of the night."

"You got it, boss."

He fell asleep not thinking much about it. What were the odds the kid would have a second bad night in a row, after all?

It didn't take long before Tony was awoken by the AI's alerts.

"Boss, Peter is awake."

Tony bolted upright in bed. "What? Is he okay?"

"Yes. Peter woke from a nightmare, but he is attempting the breathing exercises I suggested and is calming down."

Another nightmare. Tony ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. "What do I do FRI? Do I... check on him? Talk to him? What should I do?"

"Would you like me to ask him if he would like you to check in?"

Tony thought for a moment, torn. The kid had hidden from him last night. "No. Just... let him know I'm awake. Maybe suggest you could call me if he wants."

"I always suggest calling you, boss. Peter always declines. He doesn't want to bother you."

Tony's mind snagged on the "always," wondering what that meant. But then the rest of what she said sunk in and he felt disappointment sink like a lead weight in his gut. Peter didn't want to bother him? Tony knew that feeling well.

He felt a pull in his chest. He never wanted to make the kid feel that way. Had he made Peter feel like he was unapproachable? The thought hit harder than it should have. Tony grimaced, replaying every lukewarm attempt he'd made at being a decent guardian. He'd been so paralyzed by the fear of doing the wrong thing that he'd forgotten that doing nothing was sometimes worse.

He sighed, scrubbing his face with his hands. Now he just wanted the kid to feel comfortable enough to come to him if he needed help, even if Tony wasn't confident about doing or saying the right things. Tony could be absolutely useless on that front, but at least the kid wouldn't feel like he was on his own.

"FRI," Tony asked, voice rough, "what do you mean by 'always?' How often does Peter have nightmares?"

"Almost nightly," the AI responded evenly.

"What, every single night?" Tony asked, alarmed. "Since when?"

"Since his arrival at the compound."

"Why didn't you ever mention this?"

"I wasn't aware that you wanted to be informed of Peter's sleeping habits. Shall I update my protocols?"

"Yes! Of course. Jesus, FRIDAY." He paced the room, his movements jerky, restless. "Does he usually go back to sleep?"

"Not typically. He often gets up to read for a few hours before returning to bed, or he leaves his room entirely to calm down."

Tony froze mid-step, his pulse quickening. "He leaves? Where does he go?"

"The kitchen."

"The kitchen?" Tony's brow furrowed. "Why?"

"It was the first room he had open access to at the compound. He may have developed a habit of seeking it out to soothe himself. It's also generally quiet."

His chest tightened at the reminder of how long the kid had been dealing with nightmares completely alone. Tony got up and headed for the kitchen. He would hang out there for a little while. Just in case.


The following night, Tony was deep into a delicate project in his workshop, carefully threading wiring through an arc assembly, when FRIDAY's voice interrupted his concentration.

"Peter is awake and distressed, boss."

Tony's hands froze, the wire slipping slightly in his grip. He glanced at the nearly-completed work in front of him, knowing that stopping now meant hours of setbacks. But the thought of Peter, struggling through another sleepless night, made the decision for him.

With a soft, resigned sigh, Tony set the assembly down with a dull thud and made his way upstairs to the kitchen. He could use a cup of coffee, anyway.


Tony slipped under the covers next to Pepper. "God, I've missed you." He pressed a kiss to her neck.

"Boss, Peter is awake."

Tony stilled. "Is he okay?"

"He seems to be having a difficult time calming down."

Tony looked apologetically at Pepper as he pulled away.

Pepper shifted beside him, concern knitting her brow. "What's going on?" she asked softly.

"The kid's been having a hard time at night. I'm sorry." Tony got up, pulling his shirt back on.

Pepper sat up slightly, studying his face. "Are you going to go talk to him?"

"Probably not." He sighed, pulling on his shirt. "I'm just going to the kitchen to wait, see if he shows. FRIDAY says he used to hang out there after a bad night."

A strange look flickered across Pepper's face. "You're going to wait in the kitchen on the off chance Peter comes looking for you?"

"Yeah." Tony winced. "Look, Pep, I know we haven't had much time together lately, but…"

"Tony," she interrupted, her hand brushing his arm. "It's fine. Go. It's okay."

She still wore that strange, unreadable expression on her face that puzzled Tony, but he figured she at least wasn't upset. He was well-versed in what Pepper's upset face looked like, and this wasn't it. He was also familiar with her smug face, and this one was eerily similar.

"Don't wait up. Get some sleep." He pressed another kiss to her forehead and slipped out of the room.

Tony settled into the kitchen, Starkpad open in front of him, though his eyes flicked to the hallway every few minutes. He knew the routine by now. Peter never called for him. Never asked for help. The kid carried the weight of his nightmares in silence, and Tony hated that he hadn't been paying attention sooner.

He knew he didn't deserve the kid's trust. He had already bailed on him once. But he hoped he was doing a good enough job lately to heal that mistake. And he may be clueless about how to help Peter, but he knew that if he just did the opposite of anything Howard did, then he'd at least be going in the right direction.

What was the opposite of callous indifference? Tony thought it might start with sitting in the kitchen and waiting. He had no clue how to be good at all this guardianship stuff, but he knew what it meant to be there. He could do that.

The hour was just about up and Tony was thinking of heading in for the night when he heard a door open and a soft padding down the hall. The sleepy-looking teen shuffled into the kitchen with a wary glance at Tony before moving to the sink to fill a glass of water.

Tony's heart stuttered. He didn't have a plan past this point. "Hey kiddo. Can I get you something to eat?"

Peter shook his head, his eyes alighting on the chair across from Tony for a moment before darting away. "I'm just getting water." Peter's soft voice was shaky.

"Pull up a chair, I'm reading some reports from R&D and it's so boring it's liable to put me to sleep. You can help keep me awake."

Peter nodded and took a seat, setting the water in front of him as he blinked haunted, wide eyes at Tony.

Tony frowned but turned back to his screen. He wanted to ask the kid a dozen questions, but he'd be damned if he was going to mess it all up and scare him away. Better to just keep his mouth shut and take his cues from the kid.

They sat in silence for quite some time as Tony pretended to read through the reports. It would've driven him crazy if it weren't for the fact that Peter was visibly calming down. His posture relaxed after a few minutes, his eyes lost their haunted quality as he took a few deep, steady breaths. He took a sip of water and let out a sleepy little sigh.

About half an hour later, Peter rose from his seat with a quiet, "I'm going back to bed. Good night."

Tony looked up, his chest tight with something he couldn't quite name. "Alright, buddy. You need anything?"

Peter shook his head. "No." He paused, "Thanks."

"Good night, kiddo." Tony blew out a relieved breath as he watched Peter disappear back into his room. A small smile tugged at his lips. Maybe he'd been overthinking it all. Maybe it wasn't about saying or doing the right things. Maybe it was just about showing up. About being there when it mattered. Maybe Tony could do this.