Chapter Text
Peter ducked into an empty alleyway somewhere near the shady part in Queens, that he deemed safe enough to catch his breath in. His lungs were rapidly constricting as he choked on the cold night air. He struggled to calm his racing breath, not wanting to be found so soon after hiding. It wasn't long before he heard the recognizable sound of repulsors over the thundering of his heart.
He cowered behind a dumpster, hoping the darkness was enough to mask him from those piercing sapphire eyes that he knew were sweeping the area for him. He shivered as he tried to remember when those eyes used to feel safe, back when they were still brown and filled with warmth.
"Peter, I know you're around here somewhere. Aren't you getting tired of running?" A familiar voice from above called out to him. Peter shrunk back against the alley wall and dumpster, hoping his breathing was silent enough not to give his position away.
"Cmon Pete, is this all really necessary? If you come out now, we can just go home and put this little incident behind us." The voice of none other than Tony Stark vibrated through the night, even closer than before.
Peter shut his eyes tight as he smothered a whimper into the arms of his now filthy hoodie. It was silent for a moment before the heavy sound of the iron suit landing at the entrance of the alleyway filled his ears.
"I can hear you, kid. You're not the only one with advanced hearing anymore. Your heartbeat is just racing, isn't it?" Peter heard Mr. Stark smugly say, as the sound of metal footsteps got closer to him.
Peter knew he should just abandon his hiding spot altogether and try to get away as quick as he could, but a mixture of fear and exhaustion kept him in place. He was tired of fighting a losing battle, Mr. Stark had been chasing him for hours on end, ever since he managed to slip out of the highly secure and guarded Stark Tower earlier that morning. It was hard to have hope for escape when Peter knew Mr. Stark would catch him eventually.
This new twisted version of his beloved mentor always knew where or how to find him, and he already had the entire country under his full control. It wouldn't be long before the whole world knew the wrath of the Superior, and then hope was lost completely. Peter could barely remember life before Mr. Stark decided to test a newly engineered rendition of Extremsis on himself.
His mentor had just wanted to be stronger, in case Earth faced another Avengers-level threat while half of the original team was still in hiding after the whole Civil War fiasco. He wanted to be prepared for the absolute worst, and he thought becoming enhanced was the best way to do that. No one could've guess that this would be the end of what everyone knew as the hero Iron Man, and the start of something much more sinister.
What made everything so much worse was Peter had been the one to help Mr. Stark work in the lab with the new strand of Extremsis. He had no idea this would be the outcome of their little project. It had been so fun then, to help out his father figure any way he could in the lab. He thought he was helping protect the world, not damning it to the Superior's tyranny.
Peter would never forget the day Mr. Stark finally injected himself with the concoction they spent months perfecting. It had technically worked in all the ways they planned, Mr. Stark did gain all the enhancements he was looking for. Enhanced hearing, healing, strength and speed. Though, those weren't the only bonuses obtained. After the injection, Mr. Stark's amber eyes turned a striking cobalt blue and his overall appearance looked ten years younger. Where there were once wrinkles and graying strands of hair, laid perfectly smooth tanned skin and luxurious jet-black locks.
But the biggest change that they didn't account for, was the drastic change in his moral compass. Mr. Stark had become cold and heartless towards the whole world, he cared less about protecting it and more about owning it. He ruled with an iron fist and his guilt complex was close to nonexistent now. But what Peter probably found the most shocking was his mentor's newfound attitude towards Peter himself.
He grew obsessively overprotective of him and hadn't allowed Peter to go home to his Aunt May after waking in his newly enhanced body. Of course, Peter had tried to reason with the older man, but it had only led to the man getting excessively angry and threatening the life of his dear aunt. Peter had stuck around, but only to ensure the life of his loved one.
As the days turned into weeks, Mr. Stark grew increasingly paternal of the boy. Even going as far as demanding to be called dad one dreary night while tucking the teenager in like one would a small child. The boy couldn't get a moment alone, always being coddled or doted on. His mentor never straying far for long.
Despite Mr. Stark's continuous distractions through the weeks, Peter didn't stop asking about his aunt, desperately wanting any sort of update on the woman that raised him. Which caused Mr. Stark to grow overwhelmingly jealous over a short period of time, until one day he finally snapped. That was the day that changed everything, the day that Peter lost his last living relative and was forcibly adopted by the most powerful man on the planet.
Lost in his memory, Peter didn't sense the hand reaching for him until it was too late.
A chuckled "Gotcha." accompanied with an ironclad grip on his upper arm yanked Peter from his racing thoughts. There standing over him with his faceplate down, was Peter's former idol and now the main perpetrator of all his nightmares, the Superior.
Peter let out a barely stifled gasp and tried to snatch his arm away but was quickly overpowered by the combined strength of Mr. Stark's iron suit and newly discovered enhancements. He watched his mentor's eyes gleam with satisfaction and victory once the boy was truly cornered and caught.
"P-please.." Peter pleaded as tears began to fall unbridled from his big brown eyes. All Mr. Stark did was tsk at the distressed boy as he grasped Peter's other arm and pulled him up from his damp hiding place behind the dumpster.
"No need for tears, Petey." Mr. Stark cooed teasingly once he could see the tears streaming down the young boy's face. He retracted one of his iron gauntlets so he could affectionately wipe the teardrops away, which only caused the boy to cry more due to the once familiar and now tainted gesture.
"N-no, let me go!" Peter wailed, feeling five instead of fifteen.
"Shush, sweetheart, none of that now. I know how cold and exhausted you must be, hm? It's time to go home." Tony spoke with a disarming sweetness that deeply contradicted his bruising hold.
Peter vehemently shook his head as his struggling picked up. "That's n-not my home! My h-home is gone f-forever because of you!" Peter shouted with a short-lived confidence.
Like a switch being flipped, Mr. Stark's entire demeanor changed in an instant. His whole face darkened as his cold eyes narrowed into a disapproving glare. He began to harshly drag the teenager out of the alley, scowling the whole way through.
"Now is that any way to speak to your father, Peter? I was going to let you off easy this time since it was the first offense, but now I'm thinking you need a reminder of what happens to boys who misbehave.." Came the stern reply.
And just like that the fight drained right out of Peter and was instead replaced with dread. He allowed himself to be easily maneuvered out to the empty streets without another word of protest or complaint. It was underneath a lamppost that Mr. Stark effortlessly scooped the teen up all the way in his arms and activated the rest of his suit in order to shoot up into the air.
Peter let himself go completely limp in the firm hold, which Tony noticed instantly and gave a pleased smirk in return as he navigated their way back to the tower. It was in this moment that it began to rain, adding onto the despondent nature of the late night.
It wasn't too surprising, considering the sky had been overcast for the better part of the day. What had started as a drizzle, very quickly escalated into a total downpour. Freezing droplets were pelting them from all directions, as Mr. Stark flew them all the way back to the gleaming tower in the center of Manhattan.
Each icedrop feeling like a sharp prick on Peter's unprotected skin. The icy water completely soaked through his clothing, his hoodie and jeans left feeling heavy from the weight of it. It wasn't long before Peter gave into the ever-growing need to bury his pale face in the armored chest, in order to protect against the onslaught of severe weather.
By the time they landed on a balcony outside of the main Penthouse, Peter's body was shivering violently while his teeth chattered uncontrollably. Mr. Stark rushed him indoors before deactivating his iron suit and sending it away, no longer needing it to wrangle his Spider-Kid back home.
"Fri, be a dear and place the Penthouse on complete lockdown until further notice. Oh and kick up the heat, we got a frozen Spider-Baby on our hands." Mr. Stark calmly requested, and once more freedom was just a dream to be had.
Peter couldn't comprehend how it had only been mere hours since he left this place and now he was already back. He didn't even make it out of the city. He had barely made it to Queens before the chase began and the stress of it started to wear him down. Which led to him being caught in the Superior's grasp in the end.
The teen was once again yanked from his reverie by the feeling of a warm hand curling around the nape of his neck, as Mr. Stark led him through the modern living room and down the hallway to what was known as Peter's room. Peter had his arms wrapped tightly around himself, to either provide warmth or self-soothe, he didn't know. Probably both.
The prolonged silence between the two finally ended once they entered the teenager's bedroom that was directly across Mr. Stark's.
"Cmon Petey. Let's get you out of those wet clothes before you end up catching your death. You and I both know cold doesn't mix well with those spider-y genes of yours." Mr. Stark softly murmured to the quivering boy as he released him in order to fetch a heated towel and fresh pair of pajamas.
Peter didn't dare move from where he was left in the center of the room, not willing to set off another mood swing when he was already on such thin ice.
Mr. Stark was already returning from the dresser with a Star Wars themed pajama set he chose. Peter didn't say a word as he watched the change of clothes be placed on the bed before him, well aware by now of his mentor's fixation on picking out his daily and nightly attire.
What he didn't know was that Mr. Stark often picked this specific set because it always made him look more childish than the usual sweatpants and plain t-shirt Pete tended to wear. It was one of the few things that warmed Tony's heart anymore. The only time he was ever made aware of his heart nowadays was where his kid was involved. Which is why he always needed the boy close by, his sweet son owned the last bit of his humanity and compassion.
"Let's go kid, outta those clothes. I don't trust you to be by yourself just yet so I'm not leaving, but I'll turn around." Tony swiftly turned to give his kid the privacy he needed to change.
"Cmon, get a move on. Chop chop." He impatiently added on.
Peter sped into action, shrugging off the drenched clothing before tugging on the warm set of pajamas as quickly as he could. He tried to calm his pounding heart, knowing Mr. Stark could very well hear it.
Tony turned back toward the teen with the warmed towel still clutched in his hands whenever he heard the timid "D-done.." come from the still trembling boy.
Tony marched his way back over to the kid and began to towel off his dripping curls, completely ignoring the flinch the initial movement caused. Tony proceeded to fuss over drying Peter's hair and face for the next ten minutes, before deeming him dry enough.
Peter felt the chill in his bones recede after the treatment with the warm towel, but still couldn't help the occasional shiver that ran through his body. He wasn't sure if it was from the lingering cold or the hopeless situation he found himself in.
Peter watched his mentor put the wet clothes and towel away in a hamper to be dealt with later, before grabbing the nearest blanket and advancing back towards him. Mr. Stark looked overly pleased with himself once he had Peter swaddle up like a baby in the soft weighted blanket.
Once he had Peter propped up against the headboard of the bed, the teen could feel the man's perceptive gaze on him. Which he desperately tried to ignore by avoiding eye contact despite how that seemed to make his senses go haywire.
"Peter, look at me." Mr. Stark commanded, and when Peter didn't immediately comply he felt the older man's calloused hand press into his chin to lift his head up towards him.
"That's better. You've hardly spoken since your outburst in the alley. Tell me what's going on in that head of yours."
Peter blinked up at him before his eyes unwillingly filled with tears, which led to the man murmuring quiet reassurances to him like a parent would a child. Peter didn't know what his mentor expected him to say, he really didn't want to make anything worse for himself. He was tired and emotionally drained from the nonstop turmoil he seems to consistently be in. So he allowed himself to be pulled into a warm chest as he began to full on weep.
"Aw, my sweet boy. You've had a long day, huh?" Mr. Stark muttered pacifyingly as he ran his fingers through the boy's wild curls in a soothing manner.
For a moment, Peter could almost forget everything that happened, he could pretend that everything was back to normal. That his mentor was just comforting him after a long day of patrolling, that his Aunt May was still waiting for him back at their apartment in Queens the next day. But of course, it was never long before the illusion was shattered.
"We're going to have to talk about why you ran off, you do know that right?" The smooth voice of his mentor broke the silence.
Peter sniffled and nodded into the chest he currently had his face buried in. He felt the arms around him tighten almost painfully.
"Words, Pete. I need to hear your voice."
"Y-yes I know, s-sir." Came the stuttered reply. The older man gave a small chuckle at the formal response.
"And here I thought you had forgotten all your manners. Glad to know that's not a lesson that needs repeating." Mr. Stark gave a playful pull to the boy's hair as he spoke.
"Want to share with the class why you ran away and led me on a wild goose chase through New York?"
Peter felt his mouth go dry at the direct question.
"I.. I don't know." He knew his heart skipped a beat whenever he answered and hoped his lie wasn't automatically called out. But why would Peter Parker ever be that lucky?
The boy gave a startled yelp at the harsh tug on his drying curls, a vast contrast to the previous lighthearted teasing from before.
"Wrong! Don't lie to me, Peter. I only want to hear the truth from you." Came the severe response that brought on another round of tears.
"I-I'm so s-sorry, Mister-" the hand draped around his back gave a warning squeeze that instantly clued Peter in to his mistake.
"D-dad, I'm s-so sorry dad." The boy hiccupped miserably.
And just like every time Peter used that word, Mr. Stark immediately loosened up and flashed him a satisfied grin. The calloused hands around his back and in his hair went back to gentle in an instance.
"Oh I know, Petey. You're such a good boy, so tell me what happened, huh bud? What made you do it? It was obviously a spur of the moment decision, because you had no plan of action whatsoever."
Mr. Stark spoke delicately to him as he tenderly wiped away tears, giving the boy in his arms whiplash from the rapid shifts in mood.
Peter took a moment to think out an honest response, and he hated to admit it to himself, but Mr. Stark was right about his actions being completely on a whim. He hadn't thought anything through at all and didn't even have the slightest idea to where he was even running to.
It wasn't like he had anywhere to go, anyone waiting on him to escape. He just had the itch to flee, to get out the moment the option had presented itself. A simple glitch in a security protocol that had left a balcony door unlocked while Mr. Stark had left him alone in order to attend a last-minute meeting.
He thought of nothing when he climbed down the side of the building, not even caring about the lack of mask covering his face. The weirdest thing is, he doesn't even think he was actually trying to leave the city. No, he was subconsciously heading towards Queens whenever his escape turned into a chase. And there lied his truthful answer.
"I just.. I just really miss Q-Queens sometimes.." He slowly mumbled into the shoulder he had retreated into, craving any sense of comfort he could get, even from the one who caused his initial distress.
The soothing hands on him paused for a moment before resuming their placating gestures.
"Is that all sweetheart? All you had to do was ask me and I would've taken you to visit. I don't understand what you see in that place but I do know how much it means to you, considering all the times you risked yourself for it as Spider-Man. Thank God that's a thing of the past."
Tony remarked casually as he let his hand sweep through his kid's fluffy hair.
"Of course, that's going to have to wait after the stunt you pulled today. You know what they say, actions have consequences yada yada." A pause.
"What you did today was incredibly dangerous and completely idiotic, you know. You could've gotten seriously hurt. You're lucky I'm around to stop you from almost getting yourself killed all the time. You don't understand what that would do to me if I ever lost you. You're my son! You're the only one I can ever care about, kiddo. The only one I could ever love. Y-you can't do this to me again, kid."
Mr. Stark vigorously vented to his ward, arms subconsciously tightening. His voice had held so much emotion, it shook with the power of his passion and it briefly reminded Peter of his mentor from before Extremsis.
Peter couldn't stop the confusing mix of guilt and fear that started to bubble up inside him. A part of him really wanted to apologize profusely and promise to never leave his beloved father figure's side again. This part of him that begged to please his mentor seemed to alarmingly grow stronger every day. But there was still always something inside of him that screamed to run and escape this madness. Though, he only ever had one real option.
"I-I'm, I'm so sorry d-dad. I won't a-again, I p-promise- I swear." Pete began to babble incoherently, close to hysterics.
"I'm sorry- I'm sorry." He repeated over choked sobs that started to spill out of him, which quickly escalated into hyperventilating. Peter felt so overwhelmed, he honestly couldn't make sense of it anymore.
So he did the easiest thing he could do and just gave in. Gave in to the warped fantasies of a man he had once looked up to as a father figure, which is something he was afraid he often still did to this day, despite everything wrong Tony had done up to this point.
Somewhere deep down, he couldn't help but feel like he was disappointing his aunt by playing house with her murderer, even if he really had no say in the matter.
"Shh, bambino, I got you now. It's okay, we're gonna be okay, tesoro. Oh, mio povero ragazzo."
Mr. Stark easily slipped back into a gentle, reassuring tone as he rocked Peter back and forth, pressing a few kisses to his hairline to console him.
Peter couldn't help but relax at hearing the familiar Italian dialect. Peter isn't Italian, but May, the woman who raised him, was.
He grew up always hearing it from her, whether it was muttered curses in the kitchen when a dish went awry, or gentle words spoken to him when he needed them most. It didn't take long for Peter to pick up on it and learn to speak the language, he is considered a bright kid for a reason.
Mr. Stark had often spoke Italian to Peter pre-Extremsis too, it was something the two had in common that they could share together. Though whenever Mr. Stark slipped into speaking Italian now, it was usually when emotions and tensions were really high. Peter knew Italian meant something special to his mentor, and whenever he spoke it to him, his entire demeanor softened. It was usually always a good sign when the language made an appearance.
"Pete, luce della mia vita, take some deep breaths. I'm not upset anymore, okay baby? I just worry so much about you, kiddie. It's the reason why I have to do all this. To protect you, il mio cuore."
Peter's crying had slowed down significantly since the sweet words had started, trailing off into sniffles and hiccups as Mr. Stark rubbed soothing circles on his back, coaching him through deep breaths the entire time.
Once Peter's breathing was under control, he practically collapsed into Mr. Stark's secure arms, his eyes fluttering shut as exhaustion seeped into every fiber of his being. Tony cooed sweetly at him, still petting his kid's soft curls, before leaning them both back to fully lay on the bed. Peter was still wrapped in the weighted blanket as his father figure tucked him against his side, arms still fastened around the boy.
"Rest, kiddie. I'll be right here when you wake up, we'll talk more then. Good night, Pete. Ti voglio bene."
Tony hastily pressed several more kisses to his forehead, before settling back down humming faintly to his sleepy Spider-Kid.
"B-Buona Notte, dad." He whispered so quietly, only enhanced ears could pick up the mumbled phrase. Which Tony very well did, causing his altered heart to swell in a mix of pride and adoration. He watched his boy fall asleep with devoted blue eyes, a fond smile gracing his lips as his boy snuffled a bit in his sleep.
This precious kid was his son. And no one could ever change that. The Superior always got what he wanted. Peter was his successor, his legacy, his entire world.
And Tony Stark would kill anyone who ever tried to jeopardize that. He's more than willing to cross every line and go the extra mile to protect his son. Even if his kid decided to fight him every step of the way.
His boy was young, tender-hearted still. He didn't understand the bigger picture, didn't understand the threat the world posed to him. Peter has yet to realize how much he truly needed his father to provide and protect.
But that's okay, Tony could show him. Could show him how much he needed to be in his care. It was only a matter of time before his boy finally understood.