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“So, what’s the catch?”
The boy’s eyes glinted in the dim alleyway. His face was perfectly composed, a mask of slightly ashen skin. In his hands, he held a blue backpack and a roll of gauze.
“Catch? What catch? Kid-”
Peter rolled his eyes. How stupid did the man think he was? He may be young but he certainly wasn’t naive.
“You don’t need to baby me, Stark. I know how the world works. It’s not necessarily a deal breaker, I just need to know what I’m going to owe you.” He kept his breath even, careful not to favor his right leg too heavily, he didn’t need to give anything else away.
Stark seemed puzzled “Why would you owe me anything? I’m literally offering you a T-shirt because I got flame retardant on that one.” Stark's helmet was off, projecting the perfect image of sincerity.
Peter wished he would just hurry up and name his damn price, he could feel blood trickling down his leg and he needed to wrap it. Why was Stark still here, what did he want? Peter’s hand closed tighter around his backpack strap. His Spiderman suit was still there, concealed beneath a notebook. Was that Stark’s catch?
“Nothing’s free. You should know that, Billionaire and all.”There was bitterness in his tone, perhaps more bitterness than a child his age should hold, but he was running out of patience.
“Look, you can take the shirt, or I can wait for you to take the shirt. It is your choice but I am not leaving this alley until you have something on that doesn’t smell like ash.” Stark crossed his arms and waited for Peter’s response
Peter scowled at the ground. His leg was starting to bleed through his jeans, if it went any longer the spot would be noticeable. He could climb a wall and escape but it would give his identity away. He could go for the fire escape? Pretend to be a gymnast? His leg throbbed at the thought. His eyes roved the dingy space, searching for escape routes. He found none. That left one more option. He angled his body back toward the man.
“Fine” he growled, almost inaudibly.
Stark’s face lit up “Perfect! One second, I need to call my driver.”
He stepped daintily into the sunshine (How does one even step daintily in Ironman armor?) and Peter breathed a sigh of relief and turned his back to the entrance, sliding his pant leg up.The wound wasn’t that deep, barely a scratch even, but it was still bleeding, and that meant It needed immediate attention. He tore off a piece of gauze and wrapped it tight. It wouldn’t last, but he should make it to wherever Stark wanted him without bleeding everywhere. He grit his teeth and steered himself into the light.
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Three days later, Peter sat on the couch, leg healed, and stared at his silent phone. He didn’t know why he did it. May wouldn’t call, she never did. He had lost the right to expect it when he had failed to save Ben. He’d failed her. He deserved it.
Why was he even here? Whatever Stark expected from him he obviously couldn’t pay. Oh, he claimed it was free, the shirt, the food, the room, but Peter knew that couldn’t be true. A bubble of frustration rose through him like smoke. Didn’t Stark get it? Everything had a price. For a sandwich, it was 3$. For May, it was Ben. You didn’t just get what you wanted. You had to work for it. He needed to leave now, before he racked up a debt he could never pay.
As he made to stand, a loud curse exploded from Stark’s lab. He hesitated, just for a second, but just for a second too long.
“Kid? Can you hand me a wrench? Please?” Peter froze “Kid? You there?”
“Yeah I’m-” he cleared his voice and tried again “Yeah, you need a wrench?”
“Mhm, could you grab it?”
Peter padded into the lab and let out a gasp. The room was filled with gleaming silver machinery, piled on tables like a dragon’s horde. A faint hologram glowed in the center of the room, illuminating the space. Rock music, lowered to a whisper, drifted between the projects. And there, in the middle of this vast scientific empire was Stark. He was standing- no, crouching, near the back of the room, his arm caught on something.
Peter shook himself out of his daze. He was here for a reason, he had a job to do.
“Which one do you need?”
“The one on the table over there,” Tony nodded in that direction before smiling sheepishly. “Sorry about that, I’m normally better about this. Dummy’s hand clamp is too tight and he grabbed me, wouldn’t let go, he still doesn’t want to move-” Peter missed the next part of his rambling “-wouldn't have gotten distracted if it weren’t for this stupid problem.” Peter’s head snapped up before trying for haughty nonchalance. Lucky for him, Stark saw right through it.
He raised an eyebrow as Peter handed the tool over. “You wanna see it?”
Peter nodded mutely, concealing his frantic excitement with apathy.
“J, can you pull it up?” the hologram at the other side of the room flickered and then changed, showing a large physics equation. His eyes flew through it, categorizing every symbol with childlike glee. A part of his mind, untouched sense Midtown creaked to life. it flew like a bird through the letters and numbers, able to stretch its wings at last. He gazed at the board as Stark began to speak, his words punctuated by the clicks of a socket wrench.
“So here’s the thing. I did the math for the mark 40, but the turbine is showing less power than I predicted. It’s not much and I’m not thrilled, but I can’t figure out why. It’s been bugging me for hours I jus-”
“Your expansion coefficient is wrong.” Peter interrupted, still searching the board hungrily.
“What?” Stark blinked in surprise
“Uh- I mean” Peter stepped back and clasped his hands like a child caught mid-wrongdoing. “Sorry- I-” Fuck. what was doing, he wasn’t supposed to be here.
“No, no, please, tell me.” Stark's eyes narrowed “I included the expansion coefficient. What did I forget?”
Peter’s face flushed. “You, uh, you used the coefficient of expansion for steel, ten to the negative sixth times 6.5? And you said that it was mostly titanium so it would actually be closer to that times 8.5, and you were anticipating the barings to expand under the heat to 0.0234% of its original size, however, because it’s titanium, it actually expanded to 0.0306%, making the axle too tight, causing friction and increasing drag.” He said, all in one breath as though afraid someone would stop him.
Tony read through the equation again and let out a low, slow whistle. “Damn kiddo, wish I’d known you had a brain like that.” Peter waited for a reprimand, something, anything that made sense. He’d just called Stark out, proved him wrong, why was he not shouting.
“Help me with another one?”
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Several months later Peter was standing on a roof with Tony. The sky was dark and Peter had a plan. He was anxious, guilty, and honestly? Three seconds away from tears. But he had to do this.
Turns out it’s pretty easy to get out and patrol when you pull the “I want to visit May” card. In reality, Peter hadn’t seen May sense the day Tony found him. May never cared. The one time he swung by his window, he saw his room packed away in boxes. Getting closer to the kitchen, he had seen May, sitting at the table eating cereal. At his knock, she’d looked up, locked eyes with him through the streaky pane, and offered a single, cold, nod.
It made his stomach turn. How could he feel happy, how was he allowed to feel happy, whe he had failed? It wasn’t fair. But then again, did it matter how he felt? Surly, surly, one free thing would be okay, did he really need to pay for this? He would pay anything, any cost, to have Tony. He could keep anyone safe, meet any standards, if it meant he could keep his da… Tony. Keep Tony. Well, maybe Spiderman would be his price. Maybe Spiderman would be his catch.
As they reached the edge of the roof, Peter set his shoulders and steeled himself. “Tony… there’s something I need to tell you- I’m-” His spider senses started screaming like an air raid siren.”DAD!” Without a moment of thought, he shoved Tony to the ground, away from the edge, out of the way, safe, as he took the blow that was never intended for him.
Time slowed as his foot grazed the ledge, his arms reaching for Tony, Tony was lunging forward, reaching out, but it wasn’t enough. Their fingers grazed, just long enough to hope, and slid apart.
Peter was falling. It was like gravity was possessive of the time they had stolen, and wanted it back. Hah. he giggled bleakly, everything has a price. The windows flashed past him as the wind grew stronger. There was something he should be remembering right now, something important. He wondered if this is what it had been like for his parents, falling through the air as their plane went down, or Ben, collapsing in the parking lot as soon as they left. Had they seen the same dull stars? Something itched at his wrist, he wished it would go away, he only had a few seconds left anyway, couldn’t it stop nagging him and let him enjoy this?
As the ground hurtled closer, the itching grew stronger, more insistent, Peter reached a wind-buffeted hand down to rub it away and his hand caught something. The thick elastic of a web shooter. His mind cleared. He unlocked them and aimed, his tumble becoming a controlled glide, then a swing. A whoop of exhilaration escaped his lungs as he flipped high in the air. He focused on the top of the building and threw himself upward.
He pirouetted gracefully into a landing. Tony stood over the bloody form of a man. His face was empty and he didn’t seem to hear the man’s struggles. Peter padded closer, afraid of startling him, and gently laid a hand on Tony’s shoulder. Tony spun around, eyes wild and wet with tears, ready for a fight.
He finally saw peter and let out a gasp like a drowning man. He threw his arms around Peter, and pulled him tight.
“Peter, I- fuck How-?”
“I tried to tell you, I was about to when he- when we- I’m spiderman.” Tony’s breathing seemed to stop completely. He slowly pulled back and Peter’s heart raced at the loss of contact. He surveyed the teen in front of him and as he did, Peter noticed something he’d missed before. A long, deep gash, running down Tony’s forearm. It was soaking into the fabric around it, making a dark, muted crimson.
He couldn’t pull his eyes away. He’d failed. Again. He’d promised he would do anything, protect anyone, yet here Tony was, with a mark that could have been avoided if Peter had just been better. Tony must have said something but he couldn’t hear it over the rush in his ears. Static thundered like a tidal wave, washing away any attempt at rational thinking. Tony was close to him again, mouthing silent words. His mind screamed a million insults, dragging him down, drowning him.
“Please,” he managed, “Please don’t leave.” broken words began to flow like ice water over his lips. “Please, I can fix it, please.” his tears, dislodged by his shaking body, fell with quiet patters on his shirt. “I’ll do better I promise.” Everything was too loud, too quiet, too bright, time was shattered like glass, how long had it been? Minutes? Hours? Days? He stared, unseeing at a pebble near his foot. A pair of hands were wrapped around his and they gently pulled. He looked up, the beginnings of a sentence finally filtering through his ears.
“-That’s it, you’re doing so well, I got you. I’m right here.”
Another wave crashed through him like a wrecking ball
“-an you follow my breath? In with me, like this.” he exaggerated the motion and peter did his best to copy. “Good job, there you go, and now exhale
Peter let out a shaky exhale that turned into a wheeze as another wave wracked his mind.
“Okay kiddo, can you list five things you can see?”
“T-the sky,” The sky was full of dark clouds and the stars were nowhere to be seen, but the lights of the city drew patches of color across the dark canvas. Peter squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before trying again. “Cars,” Far below, the cars zipped along the roads like fireflies in the summer. “That building” Across from them was a monolith of silver mirrors, glinting in the foggy moonlight. “The moon” A great silver balloon, floating in the atmosphere, reflecting the light from a sun millions of miles away. “You” Tony was here, he hadn’t left, that meant things had to be okay.
Peter went on to name 4 things he could touch (his shirt, the roof, his socks, and Tony.) 3 things he could hear (The wind, cars, and the AC system.) 2 things he could smell (Ozone and dirt.) and one thing he could taste (blood)
“You with me again kiddo?” Tony asked when Peter’s breathing slowed.
Peter nodded and for a moment they just sat there. It could have been a moment or several when tony turned to him.
“So, do you want to tell me what happened?”
Peter’s lower lip trembled “I failed you. I wasn’t good enough to help you, that means you have to leave.”
“Says who?”
“Says everyone. No one stayed. May didn’t when I failed Ben. She hasn’t even looked at me since then.”
Tony’s eyes burned with fury. Peter waited for Tony to get up and leave. But it didn’t happen, instead, Tony scooted so that he was facing Peter. “Look at me” he commanded. Peter flinched, but did as he said “What she did to you was not okay.” Peter opened his mouth to defend her but Tony started again. “Letting a kid grow up without a family because you lost someone is not okay.” He waited, but this time Peter couldn’t argue. “Next, you will never have to earn my love. I love you like a son and there is nothing you can do to change it.” Peter’s eyes re-filled “I will always love you and I don’t care what she told you, but there is no price, there is no catch, there is nothing except me, telling you, that I love you.”
“I’m not leaving until you tell me you want me gone.” Peter shot up and pulled Tony into a proper hug
“I don’t want you gone.” He whispered into his shoulder.
“Then I’m not going anywhere.”