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There were two things Peter was certain of… maybe three.
One, he was in pain, even for his standard.
Two, he was in some sort of hospital.
Three, he was alone.
Peter had never been alone in a hospital before. When he was a kid his hospital visits were far and wide between. He rarely got sick and the only bone he’d broken was his arm falling off the swing when he was six. After Spider-Man, his visits got more frequent, but luckily they were to Tony’s private medbay and the man was always there too, even if he was just being treated for minor bruising.
He didn’t understand what had happened. His mind had a familiar fogginess which Peter knew came from ‘the good stuff’ as Tony deemed it.
He looked around the room, finding no recognisable features. There was a window to the left of him where daylight poured through the partially open blinds, but he was too low to see out of it. The rest of the room gave no clues as to where he was either. It was basic, nondescript. He could be anywhere.
He wanted Tony or May to walk through the door with an apology on their lips and a coffee in their hand and everything would make more sense, but no one came. He bit his lip, trying not to let his heightened emotions get the better of him.
His only company was the incessant beating of the heart rate monitor behind him and the IV in the back of his hand. He hated needles. He hated hospitals. He hated being alone.
For a moment, he considered tearing the stupid IV out and finding out what the hell was happening but his side was pulsing with pain and his head was light and his eyes slipped closed before he could push back his bed covers.
He wasn’t sure if it was a matter of minutes or hours he’d been asleep when a loud bang snapped him back to consciousness. He flinched back instinctively, eyes snapping open and one arm coming up defensively.
The panic however was short-lived when his eyes fell on a furious-looking Tony Stark.
He thought it was just an exaggeration when people described being so angry they saw red, but Peter was sure Tony’s world was a little more than rose-tinted right now. His chest was heaving and he pointed a finger at Peter.
“I’m adopting you. I don’t care what you have to say.”
Okay, that wasn’t… what?
Peter frowned. Maybe he was still high because Tony didn’t just burst in here and tell him he was adopting him. It had to be a weird dream. Shit, how many drugs did they have him on?
He couldn’t fathom a response, opting to sit with his mouth agape whilst Tony moved to him and scanned every inch of him. His arms hovered over him as if he was afraid to touch him and Peter wanted nothing more than for Tony to pull him into a hug but the hands moved away as quickly as they appeared.
“You’re okay?”
“I-I don’t…”
“Are you okay?” He demanded, reaching out and holding both of his shoulders. It would have been intimidating if it wasn’t for the desperation in his eyes.
Peter nodded dumbfounded. “Y-Yeah. I’m fine.”
Tony let out a breath, letting his head drop below his shoulders.
The hands on his slipped away, causing Tony to slump further. He’d never seen him look so defeated.
“Eight hours,” he muttered quietly. “Eight fucking hours it’s been since we got here and they wouldn’t tell me a thing.”
Peter stayed quiet, trying to make sense of everything but the gaps in his memory weren’t making it easy. They were travelling upstate for a science convention, that much he remembered. Tony had managed to convince the school to let him out for a day and since no one said no to Tony Stark and they were on their way to the hotel as soon as school finished.
Oh. Now he remembered. The pain he’d been experiencing since the fifth period that he tried to conceal from Tony. He’d assumed it was something he ate at lunch and brushed it off knowing the older man would only overreact and worry.
Then he collapsed in the hotel lobby.
Shit. His appendix ruptured.
He glanced back up to find Tony pacing at the end of his bead, one hand pinching the bridge of his nose so tight it looked painful.
Clearly, something happened Peter didn’t know about. Something that would make the man want to adopt him.
“Mister Stark?”
Tony shook his head, opting to relieve his nose and tug at his hair instead. He looked wrecked. “Eight hours. They wouldn’t let me see you or give me an update on how you were doing. The only thing they could tell me was that you were out of surgery and even then I had to fucking beg them for it.”
The way Tony’s voice broke on almost every word terrified him. This was the man who saved the world from alien invasions without batting an eye. Nothing ever affected him. Not until now. Peter wasn’t sure he was ready to know the cause.
“They wouldn’t even tell me if you were okay,” he whispered, collapsing on the edge of his bed, too far away for Peter to reach. “They wouldn’t give you anaesthesia. I begged them. I was on my knees begging them to help you but they wouldn’t listen because I’m not related to you.”
Oh…
Oh .
Tony was in this state because of him . Because he couldn’t see him.
The man sniffed, snapping Peter out of his sudden realisation to find him crying. Tony Stark had tears running down his face. Because he couldn’t get to him.
“You’re one of the most important people in the world to me and I’m nothing to you.”
Peter shook his head. “No, that’s not-“
“It is true, kid. On paper it is. To the state I have no hold over you, I couldn’t help you.”
“I…”
“They took you in an ambulance and they wouldn’t let me go with you. When I got here they wouldn’t - they wouldn’t even tell me if you’d made it here at first.”
Peter swallowed, feeling so much worse than his lost appendix could ever make him feel. “I’m sorry.”
Tony shook his head, wiping away his tears harshly with the cuffs of his sleeves. “This isn’t your fault.”
Peter bit his lip, at a loss for anything else to say. Nothing seemed to comfort Tony, as much as he wished he could help. Perhaps if he wasn’t so doped up on drugs he’d be able to string together more than a two-word sentence and give him some assurance.
“They wouldn’t tell me if you were okay,” he said again as if that was the only thing he could think of.
Helpless, Peter reached out a hand, fingers extended as much as he could towards him. Tony pitched forward, taking the hand in both of his and leaned his forehead on them.
“‘M sorry,” he murmured. He knew Tony said it wasn’t his fault, but he knew it kind of was. He should have told Tony that he was in pain. Especially when he had to grind on his teeth to control it. Guilt consumed him watching Tony clutch his hand like a lifeline.
Eventually, he sat back up with a long sigh but made no move to let go of Peter’s hand. “No relation,” he muttered icily. “When it comes to it, I have no say over what happens to you. Hell, I couldn’t even see you until Pepper must have found a workaround.”
At least that answered why he woke up alone twice, he figured.
“I can’t do that again. I can’t stand there going mad in a waiting room whilst the doctors do everything they can to keep me in the dark.”
Peter’s heart clenched, picturing Tony begging the nurses to see him or simply give him an update on how he was doing. His own frustration began to grow at the thought, only he didn’t voice it. His attention had been taken by Tony’s freshly bandaged hand.
He frowned, wrapping his hand around his wrist.
Tony sighed, almost ashamed.
“What happened?”
“Picked a fight with a mirror. The mirror won.”
“Mister Stark.”
He shrugged, “they wouldn’t let me see you. I was… god I was so mad. It had been hours and they refused to tell me anything.”
“I was fine,” he said for lack of anything else to say. Tony let out another humourless huff, examining his gauze-wrapped hand. “At least they told me you were stable and out of surgery when I did this.”
“How did you manage that?”
He smirked in a way that made Peter know he wouldn’t like the answer. “I may have been bleeding everywhere and refused to let them treat it. That was their compromise I guess.”
Peter bit his lip, “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
He tried to imagine what he’d have done if the situation was reversed. He’d have probably climbed the side of the building and snuck into Tony’s room, hiding in the corner of the ceiling. He knew just like Tony, he wouldn’t have taken no for an answer.
They both stared at Tony’s wrapped hand for a moment whilst the older man calmed down. It also gave time for Peter to reflect on the whirlwind that just happened. God, he wished he had a clear head right now.
“You really want to adopt me?”
Tony shrugged, surprisingly unphased. Peter was worried he’d just said it in the heat of the moment, but he looked up with an edge of sincerity he wasn’t prepared for. “I need to do something. That can’t ever happen again. Adoption, guardianship, I don’t care.. You’re my kid and I couldn’t get to you.”
“But like… that’s kinda permanent.”
“That’s the point.”
Peter rolled his eyes, “I know. But… adoption. Guardianship, whatever. You’d be stuck with me.”
Tony frowned, “stuck with you? Kid, you’re making that sound like a bad thing.”
“Isn’t it? Look at how stressed out I make you. You seriously want to be responsible for me?”
Tony huffed, smiling a little. “I know exactly how stressed out you make me, these grey hairs didn’t make themselves. But yes, I want that. Maybe when you’re my legal kid I’ll have more say in the stupid shit you pull.”
“I don’t pull stupid-“
“You didn’t tell me you were in pain for four hours,” Tony cut in looking very unamused.
Peter cringed, “yeah, okay. That was dumb.”
Tony nodded in agreement, but his fondness returned in his smile. He reached up, running a hand through Peter’s hair and removing the stray curls that always managed to escape his semi-organised mop.
Perhaps Tony had been something of his dad all along.
“I think… I think I’d like that.”
“What?”
“A-Adoption. Guardianship. Whatever. I, uh, I’d like that,” he admitted sheepishly.
“Seriously?”
Peter nodded, managing to make eye contact even though his cheeks were burning.
To his relief, Tony broke into a wide grin and squeezed his shoulder. “Shit, I… I imagined this so differently. I thought I’d do it on a birthday or Christmas, make it something special.”
Peter frowned. “You wanted to do this before?”
“Of course I did. I’ve imagined it for a while, but it’s not exactly something you bring up in conversation. You’re my kid.”
He stayed quiet trying not to think too hard about the implications, but of course Tony noticed.
“What?”
“Does that…”
“What?” he urged again.
“Does that make you my dad?”
Tony’s teasing smile softened, “that’s up to you bud. Do you want me to be?”
Peter shrugged awkwardly, but Tony didn’t look away. He just smiled. “I think so.”
“Kid,” he poked him in the chest, and then pointed to himself, “Dad.”
Peter smiled hopefully. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Peter was glad to finally have Tony hugging him, however delicately it was. “God, I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“I’m sorry for scaring you.”
“Oh trust me, I’m grounding you for a week for not telling me how much pain you were in, but right now I’m just glad you’re okay. I’m glad I’m with you finally.”
For once, he didn’t try to convince Tony against grounding him. He did kind of deserve it. “Does May know?”
He nodded, “we couldn’t get in touch with her for a while since she was at work, but Pepper let me know she was told a few hours ago. I’d have sent a jet for her but we’ll be transferring you back to Medbay since I have some sort of say on your care now.”
“I never thought I’d say this, but I miss medbay.”
Tony chuckled, “yeah well until the papers go through, you’re not allowed to get injured or sick anywhere other than New York so you won’t be missing it for too long.”
“I think I can live with that.”
“Good, because now what I say goes. That’s the perks of being a dad.”
Peter groaned, dropping his head on Tony’s shoulder. “You’re gonna exercise dad rights way too often aren’t you?”
“Oh you have no idea. You think I’m stuck with you? You’re stuck with me.”
“Is it too late to change my mind?”
Tony smirked. “Yep, the papers are being filed and if you don’t sign them I’ll do it for you.”
“That’s totally not legal.”
“I don’t care. Go to sleep, you definitely should be resting right now.”
Peter gaped, trying hard not to laugh. “I was until you came bursting in.”
“Shut it, dearest son. Only thing I want to hear from you is snores.”
“I don’t snore.”
“Mhm whatever you say,” he brushed off, manoeuvring Peter so he was lying down flat on the bed again.
“You’re the worst.”
“Yeah, yeah. I love you too. Now go to sleep.”
Peter hummed, feeling tiredness quickly catching up with him, but he couldn’t sleep yet, not without knowing. “Will you stay?”
Tony beamed back down at him, pressing a kiss on the top of his head. “Always.”