Chapter Text
Stark was sitting at his desk in Avengers tower. He was slumped over his work, a now cold coffee sitting to his right. Recently, he had left New York for a while. “Intergalactic mission with Steve” he had told Pepper. Thinking back on it now, he had no clue how it had actually happened. It flew by so quickly, he could’ve sworn he left a weekend ago – in reality, he had been gone for three months. Somehow, New York hadn’t collapsed while he was gone. He didn’t really know how, or why that worked, but somehow, the whole city didn’t go up in flames.
He flicked through a 3D hologram of the map of New York which was glowing faintly on his desk. He had neglected to turn on the lights, so the thin blue glow of the map was the only thing illuminating his office. His eyes landed on Avengers tower. He zoomed in on it – he liked seeing his work in form of a model sometimes, it brought him comfort he couldn’t quite explain. Pepper had always said that it was because it proved to him that he had succeeded and surpassed his father’s expectations – who had always been so hard on him in childhood. He guessed it had a grain of truth. After all, he rarely ever stopped to look at, and appreciate, what he had achieved.
FRIDAY chimed alive. He tensed, the shrill sound pulling him out of thought. Tony had chosen that chime in order to call his attention. Good to know it actually worked. He picked up his phone mindlessly, and was immediately flash-banged (okay, not really – but that’s what it felt like.) by his bright white background. 2:45am, the small digital clock read. “Talk to me.” he said gruffly, now inviting FRIDAY to speak. “A rise of crimes in Midtown detected.” She said. Irish accent just diluted enough for Stark to understand her.
Stark walked over to the window, watching the city glow under the stars. Droplets of rain streaked down the window. “How much?” “2.7%” she replied quickly.
The 2.7% rise in crimes wasn’t unusual, especially now. Right before the holidays, crime usually increased especially burglaries. Everybody wanted to be able to put something on the family dinner table – maybe even be able to afford gifts for their kids. He walked back to his hologram that was glowing on the desk, and zoomed in on Midtown. He had someone in that area; Spider-man. He kind of knew Spider-man, but he only ever saw him personally twice before.
Spider-man was a tall, strong guy. He wasn’t overtly buff, but you could make out a fair share of muscle under his spandex. Every time Stark saw him, he would be perched on a rooftop. They had a mutual relationship built on necessity. Stark would ask him to clean up crimes in Midtown, and in return, he would protect Spider-man from the police.
Stark decided to call the guy. It took a little convincing.
Stark found Spider-man unbearably annoying. He was incredibly quippy and would never take anything seriously. His fighting style was built solely on instinct and was so unpredictable that Stark wasn’t able to work together with him. Ever. Even the idea of Spider-man’s chaotic style caused him distress.
“Stark!” Spider-man’s familiar voice rang through Tony’s phone. “What’s up? Make it quick.”
Tony sighed, already annoyed at the voice. “Crime is up 2.7% – why?”
There was a low growl on the other end of the phone, and a whooshing sound Tony could only assume was Spider-man swinging through the sky.
“Got an itsy bitsy lizard problem.” Spider-man responded.
Tony groaned. Based on the growl in the background, that wasn’t just ‘itsy bitsy’. God how he hated that he had to work together with this immature hero. He took a deep breath, composing himself carefully before speaking again. “Itsy bitsy, huh?”
There was a smash on the other end of the line, and a grunt that was probably Spider-man taking some sort of impact. “Mhmm. Yeah…….Hey! if you have time maybe you can take the bank heist happening across the road from me now?” Spider-man said. Reluctantly, Stark agreed – not without letting out an annoyed groan, and let FRIDAY reroute the call into his suit. He then flew toward Midtown.
———————
When he got to Spider-man’s location, he couldn’t believe his eyes. Atop a roof, Spider-man was fighting a collosal figure. Tony could make out the figure towering on the roof way before he could make out Spider-man. A testament to the creature’s size. The creature was moving heavily, the whole street quaking as its feet landed back on the roof. Tony didn’t get scared easily, but he had to admit that even he would think twice before jumping into a fight like that. Only when Tony tried talking to Spider-man again, to ask him if he needed assistance, did he realize that the Vigilante had long hung up the call.
Stark decided to deal with the bank heist – ultimately, it had been the reason for his arrival. It wasn’t very tough; just four or five guys all with hand pistols, one with a shield. Loyal to Spider-man’s request, he let all of them live, and made sure not to harm them more than he had to. He didn’t really understand why, but Spider-man had always been very adamant about respecting the safety of criminals in New York. It had never been Stark’s cup of tea, but he respected it – mostly just because of how useful his relationship with Spider-man was.
Once he was done, Tony landed on the roof of the bank, wanting to watch the fight between the lizard-like creature –that could compete with Hulk in size and strength– and spider-man himself. Instead, he found the rooftop where the lizard had been to be empty.
Suddenly, a small piece of paper that was webbed to an electricity box in front of him caught his attention. He walked over and pulled the Paper carefully out of the web. He opened it. The handwriting that was inside the letter was neat, but by far messier than that, that the Spider-man usually used. It read:
“Thanks. I owe you.
Your friendly Neighborhood Spider-man”
Stark smiled despite himself. Spider-man could be annoying, but he was sure as hell raised right. He glanced back to the rooftop where the fight between Spider-man and the lizard had been. For a second, he thought he saw something move in the dark and decided to check it out. He was already there after all.
When he landed on the rooftop, he let out a sigh. He scanned the area. When he didn’t find anything, he relaxed and stepped out of the armour. Why had he built it to be so bulky anyway? The fresh, cold air hit his face. He took a deep breath, then tensed.
He thought he heard heavy breathing. In reflex, he pulled out his handgun, and cocked it “Freeze! I’ll shoot!” he shouted into the cold night air. Silence.
Then, a raspy laugh greeted him. Tony immediately lowered the gun, though his pointer finger was still tense on the trigger. He recognized the laugh, it was almost impossible not to. Spider-man’s only identifying factor was his annoyingly happy voice, as if he was above everyone else. “I’m flattered.” The voice rang back out (Seriously, did this guy even posses the ability to speak normally?). Stark shook his head, exasperation and a bit of relief allowing his shoulders to relax.
Slowly, he walked toward the sound of the voice. As he got closer, he could make out the slumped figure. Spider-man’s head hung, his chin nearly touching his chest. He was breathing faster than anyone ever should, as if every breath took energy he couldn’t find in himself. One of his legs was outstretched in front of him, and the other was folded awkwardly beneath him. As if he had landed clumsily. One of his hands was slung over the railing behind him, the other was hugging his side.
Stark couldn’t explain it, even if he tried. Some kind of instinct overcame him, his head going dizzy for a second, as if this were some bad dream. He dropped his gun, the silence overwhelming as the only sounds filling the darkness were the metal barrel of his gun clattering to the ground and Spider-man’s raspy breathing. Before he knew it, Tony was kneeling next to the figure. His stomach dropped as he got a closer look at the masked figure. The gloved hand that was clutching his side looked wet.
A thick liquid was oozing out from under his hand, and down his side – too much liquid. He looked so much smaller, younger than Stark ever thought he could look.
Spider-man’s reactive lenses squinted at the older man, trying to read his expression. Finally he spoke up. “Can I ask you a favour?” his voice was strained, his breathing still rapid. Overcome with shock and emotion, Stark didn’t trust his voice, so he nodded instead. “Can you pull my mask up above my mouth? I’m used to breathing through this thing, but it feels like I’m getting damn near waterboarded.” Another laugh, slow and tired this time.
Anger ripped at Tony’s insides for a moment – this guy was bleeding out in front of him, and he was just making jokes?! Unbelievable. He gathered himself again, it wasn’t easy though. Anger never was an easy emotion to navigate. It felt like he had to physically pull the fracturing pieces of himself back together. He took a deep breath.
Tony hesitated, and stared at Spider-man, half expecting him to change his mind. He knew how protective the vigilante was of his identity. Spider-man seemed to notice the unease that was eating away at Tony’s stomach. He nodded again. Tony couldn’t quite explain it, but he could feel that Spider-man’s demeanor softened, as if he was dealing with a child. The masked figure nodded, giving Stark permission—and trust. So much trust Tony never even wanted—to unmask him.
Tony’s hands moved before he could even process what was happening. He gently hooked his fingers into the hem of the mask, near Spider-man’s collarbones, feeling the warmth that was radiating off of him. Warmth that proved Tony was dealing with another human, someone who was alive. When the masked hero didn’t flinch, Tony started rolling up the mask gently, exposing the lower half of Spider-man’s face to the night. A painful lump formed in his throat as he realized that he would never be able to turn back. Up until this moment Spider-man had always been only that to Tony – a concept. Seeing the fact that he had a face, skin, lips would humanize him. It would make him real.
Tony didn’t know what he expected to see, but it wasn’t this. Spider-man had a surprisingly well-defined jawline, stubble ran across most of it. It wasn’t thick though, mimicking more that of a young adult than a grown man. Tony’s world crashed, time stopped as he came to a sickening realization.
Oh.
Oh no.
Was Spider-man a kid?
Spider-man had fair skin, freckles dancing across his face – mimicking the stars in the sky above them – it would be so annoyingly beautiful, if only he wasn’t oozing that warm, red thick liquid all over the cold, bare concrete of the roof. Tony focussed back on his face, he couldn’t look at the gaping wound, not now. His upper lip was slightly smaller than his bottom lip, but it was proportional. His mouth was half-open, trying to catch his breath. Tony watched the condensation from his breath curl into the night sky – proof he was still here, still alive. “Better?” he asked gruffly, hoping spider-man wouldn’t notice how much this affected him. How much his voice shook even at the idea that he could be a kid. Spider-man simply nodded, his head now thrown back. Stark somehow assumed that Spider-man’s eyes were half-lidded, although he couldn’t see them.
Tony relaxed for a second, then his eyes drifted back to Spider-man’s hand. The one that had been hugging his side with – the hand that had been holding the wound closed. It was loosening somewhat, too much. Tony’s stomach dropped again – in fact, it felt so violent Tony thought he might throw up. He practically lunged forward, and pressed his own hand over Spider-man’s. Spider-man let out a small, pained grunt at the contact, but he seemed to understand why Stark did it. “Lizard had an impressive pair of claws on him.” Spider-man said breathily. He smiled weakly. This was the first time Tony had ever seen him smile, but somehow it looked so much like him. He would’ve stared at Spider-man’s lips longer if a cough wouldn’t have pulled him back into the present. Then a wince. Tony’s insides squeezed, he felt as if something clawed at his throat. Spider-man sounded so young.
Tony decided to ignore the comment, he didn’t know if it was because he couldn’t trust himself not to break, or if it was because he was just incapable of processing it.
The more he was spending time with Spider-man, the more he had come to realize that his jokes were probably a defense mechanism. A way to lighten the mood, to feel like less of a burden. “Can I take a look at the wound?” Spider-man nodded, and spoke again “the…uh…” he trailed off, seemingly forgetting what had been on his mind.
Tony put a comforting hand on Spider-man’s shoulder, and shone a flashlight at the wound. It was worse than he expected. Blood was oozing out of it, like lava rushing down a mountain – red, hot, angry. No indication of stopping anytime soon. He looked back up at Spider-man.
“You need a hospital.”
“No. Absolutely not.” The answer came faster than Tony expected.
“You’re bleeding out on a random rooftop in midtown!”
“No Hospitals.”
Tony sighed, the vigilante seemed convinced. The guy was probably scared of his identity being leaked, or that he had to take the mask off to get checked out properly.
“I’m sure I can find you a hospital that respects the whole secret identity deal you’ve got going.”
“It’s not only about that…...I’m…different. My powers give me..uh..accelerated healing. They’ll ask questions, run tests and keep me. I’m some sort of playground for scientists.”
Tony thought about it for a bit. It made sense.
That meant Avengers tower was out of question too. His halls were filled with scientists who would be dying to run some tests on Spider-man.
“Fine. We can’t stay here though.”
Spider-man nodded. His eyes fixed on something over Tony’s shoulder. “I’ve got an apartment in Queens. It’s stocked with first-aid stuff. Think you can get me there?” Tony took another look at the vigilante’s side, and agreed. “Yeah. Hold on, I’ll get my armor.
Tony moved faster than he ever thought possible. Within seconds, he was back at Spider-man’s side, his armored hand on the vigilante’s side. As he flew the hero over to Queens, Spider-man talked through the comms again. “Would be better if we walked the last couple of meters. My neighborhood isn't a huge fan of yours.” Stark, once again decided to trust the hero, and set him down a little distance out from his neighborhood. He also got rid of his armor, but was starting to feel horrible about his need to wear a suit everywhere.
When they got to Spider-man’s apartment, Tony was taken aback to say the least. He didn’t really expect much, but he did expect Spider-man to live in a nicer area. The neighborhood was gloomy, grey and run down. He tried his best to not let Spider-man notice how much unease the neighborhood caused him. He guided Spider-man up the steps of his building, it was noticeably cold. “Got this apartment for super cheap. Rhino destroyed the street…or something, so prices sank on rent.” he explained, still carrying that quippy undertone.
They stopped in front of the door of Spider-man’s apartment, and he patted himself off. “Always forget where I put the….damn key. I barely ever use it to be honest, just crawl through the window…..the suit doesn’t have pockets..” he mumbled. Tony wasn’t even sure anymore if Spider-man was talking to him. Finally, after about 20min of searching, he turned to Stark. “Do you mind just busting it open? I’ll get the locks changed some other time.”