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He knows how he got here, in Tony Stark’s arms. As he shakes and cries, his world falling apart around him. The realization that his aunt was gone and wasn’t coming back physically and mentally jarring him. He was alone, and no matter what his mentor said; it didn’t make it any less true.
The hero couldn’t possibly take him in, they hadn’t even been on hugging terms. Though being carried from his apartment to the car so delicately could mean a step forward. No matter how little. But now he needed bigger steps, he needed a leap.
One he didn’t know if Tony Stark was willing to make. One he was almost positive he wouldn’t.
Was Tony his family? He’d been a part of his life for so long, raising him through the screens of a old tv and dusty computers, and through the many articles he printed. Even if Tony hadn’t been aware, he’d been there.
—————
Tony had long since run out of things to say, knowing it didn’t really matter. Peter was deaf to the world around him, mourning and grieving into his shoulder as if it would block out his screams of anguish.
It didn’t, and the sound hurt tony’s battered heart, his slightly bent fingers curling into the boy’s hair in an attempt to hold him closer. Offer an unspoken assurance that he was in safe hands.
Not that he thought of himself as a generally safe human being, but if anything dared to get close. You could expect them to go flying back.
The harsh inhales and struggling exhales scorched him hotter than any fire. And he managed to slide the spider and himself into the vehicle with the help of Happy.
His now free hand running up and down the boy’s back, moving in short intervals before lightly patting, and starting over again. Hoping to help get his breathing back on track. The erratic huffs would only leave him sick.
“Breathe Peter,” Tony whispered as the car started, cruising gently back to the compound. Happy worriedly looking at the road and back into the rear view mirror.
Coughs erupted soon enough, and he applied more pressure on his movements, the labored breaths calming enough to prevent any possible illness.
Peter unconsciously buried his fingers into the bottom of Tony’s shirt, and Tony didn’t have the heart to readjust the boy. Other than maneuvering his head further into the crook of his neck. His own head leaning against Peter’s, waiting until those sniffling, hiccuped breaths fell into softer ones. Indicating an exhausted and well-deserved rest had finally befallen the younger hero.
“What do we do?” Happy asked, drawing Tony’s attention.
“I guess I’ll have Pepper pick up some adoption papers,” Tony proposed, not entirely sure of the idea himself. Would Peter want that? He deserved better. But Tony wouldn’t dare let someone take Peter, especially if they didn’t want their newfound child around Tony Stark, and if they were to compromise the one thing Peter held too most. Spider-Man.
As he looked down at the child in his arms, likely uncomfortable and cramped with his legs budged together. Limbs tight and coiled in front of him. He couldn’t help but notice the unfairness the boy faced, having to be both Spider-Man and Peter Parker. Spider-Man not having to carry Peter’s burdens. While Peter crumbled under the weight of it all. The death of his aunt sending a whole new crash of rock and ocean, and whatever was heaviest upon his head in the worst possible way.
The boy was breaking under the pressure, and he was the only one left to pull him out. Break away as many of those pieces as he could, So the child could breathe without inhaling the horror and sorrow that surrounded them.
A sentiment he didn’t take lightly as he took in the damp feeling of his clothes. Peter’s still breaths hitching every once in a while, his shirt straining, being stretched by the grip of Peters limp hands.
And the small shift of Peter's hair brushing his neck every time the car moved.
FRIDAY announcing the death of his protégés aunt had left him speechless, tongue tripping over itself in asking where Peter was.
At home, doing his chemistry homework, waiting for his aunt to come home from work. She had only been a few blocks away, Tony knew the story. Her car had been hit by another in an attempt to evade the police.
They did. No one survived. And Tony knew a big part of Peter hadn’t either.
Tears fell from the boy’s eyes in his sleep, Tony cradling him further. Lips pressing into his billowing strands of hair.
Never once realizing he’d started to whisper, “I’m here, I’m here kiddo.” Over and over again until they pulled up to the facility. Happy pulling himself from the vehicle before opening the door, the two men exchanging looks to decide the best course of action.
Tony’s legs fumbled to get out of the car, Happy making sure Peter didn’t fall off his boss’ lap. Before the billionaire lifted Peter, Happy making sure he didn’t hit his head on the way out, before shutting the door and locking up.
Pepper and Rhodey looked at the boy solemnly, opening the door for Tony. Too afraid to ask any questions, while Tony left the room with Peter, the only words spoken:
“We’ll have to pick up some adoption papers.”
Pepper quickly went to make some calls, and Rhodey smiled weakly. Who knew one day Tony Stark would be a father?
In some odd way, the colonel knew it was possible, Tony was great with kids. Great with people when he wasn’t pushing them away. A great man, if only a little insecure.
Peter Benjamin Parker-Stark, a little long but It’d work. He was already so much like Tony, the last name would certainly enforce it.
He only hoped the boy slept well.
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With a hitched breath Peter jumped from his bed, struggling to breathe through his dry throat. Tony's eyes opening and nearly falling from Peter's bedside chair in an attempt to console the boy.
Peter's grip was tight enough to hurt, but he didn't dare pull away. Not even when he felt his bones pop and in an odd way it did feel good.
But the sound had an opposite effect on Peter, pulling away in fear he'd hurt him. Stuttering apologies, falling off the other side of the bed until he was curled in the corner.
Rambling about being sorry, and being alone.
Unable to think, Tony spoke up, "Peter you're staying with me."
The world tilted on its axis, and their eyes met.
"I didn't hurt you?" He asked, sniffling and crying.
"No Peter," Tony whispered, crouching to his level. Opening his arms, giving a place for Peter to stay. Not only in his arms, or home, but in his heart.