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Asking for Help, If You Need It

Summary:

Happy had told him that the number was life or death. To never call unless the situation was dire

He called

((An alternate // Rewrite of The Building Scene just before the final conflict ))

Notes:

I had an idea, sue me.

Tony Stark is such a damn hard character to get right

(See the end of the work for other works inspired by this one.)

Work Text:

Why was he so scared to call?

It’s not like he had all the time in the world, or anything.

It was dark. He was damp and trembling. It felt like it was getting heavier. And heavier. And heavier

He was certain a rib was broken, and that he’d sprained something, somewhere. Both of his hands were technically free, and one was holding Flash’s somehow not completely broken phone

He was shaking as it looked over the phone number.

Happy had said it was only for life and death…. Right?

He pressed “call”

-

Tony Stark hadn’t meant to be in New York that night. It was an accident, in a way.

He was supposed to attending the birthday of a politician in DC, but had managed to finagle his way out of it to go to the opening celebration of a superhero installation at the MoMA PS1 in Queens.

Neither was his speed, but being in Queens meant perhaps swinging (pfft, swinging. He was funny) by The Parker Apartment and chatting with the spiderling about getting his suit back. He felt he’d “grounded” the kid enough. Yeah, sure, it’d only been a week, but he’d felt a bit guilty taking the suit away. The kid was in over his head, he needed a good slice of humble pie. Okay, maybe not a big one. The kid just wanted to help. Maybe he’d give him the suit on some sort of condition?

As he continued to ponder ways to perhaps get the kid back into the suit, his phone rings.

He glances down at the caller ID.

He furrowed his brow, holding up his finger to whoever was trying to talk to him and brought the phone up to his ear

“Hello?”

“M-Mister Stark?”

Just his first few words stopped Tony’s thought process in his tracks. He sounded… off. Rough. He tried to shake it off and play it casual. Maybe Happy got sick of his calls and gave the kid his number?

“Heyyyyy there Underoos! Got something-”

“I-i need your help” The word help sounded strained. “Please”

“Help? Kid what the hell-”

There was a sudden sound in the background, rubble falling and metal creaking. Peter let out an anguished cry that drained the color from Tonys face

“Please, please Mister Stark I’m stuck- I’m stuck, I can’t get out, I can’t- it hurts, god it hurts!!” The boy cried into the horrified adults ear. Tony quickly turned the call over to his Bluetooth and made his way out of the party without so much as a “toodles” to any of the guests.

“Kid, kid calm down. What happened?” he asked, going over to his Audi’s trunk. Those suitcase Ironman's always seemed to come in handy- he kind of hated that

“I-I found him. I found the Vulture he was- was my date’s dad - Liz’s dad he- I- followed and” He whimpered, the creaking of metal sounded way, way too close for Tony’s comfort as he suited up “It was a trap he, I didn’t notice until it was too late I-” He was hyperventilating - struggling, like he was lifting something. Tony didn’t like what this inferred about his situation

“Wait- wait are you telling me you went after him without the suit?” Tony wanted to sound stern, not to rile up what was possibly a teenager already in the middle of a panic attack, but it came out sounding more, well, panicked, then intended. He tracked Peters phone easily, taking off in that direction “Pete, did you even-”

“I know!! I know!!!” he cried out “I-I’m in over my head and - and I’m stupid I- I’m sorry” he sobbed “I-I shouldn’t - I just- I wanted to help” He choked out. Tony could almost physically feel a pain in his chest.“You-you were right I-I- I’m outta my league I-”

There was a sound not unlike a lazer, and the crumbling of rubble.

“Peter? Peter??”

He was both very relieved and very anxious when he was greeted with another anguished cry

“He-help, please. Please help I-I’m sorry I- shouldn’t have-” He suddenly coughed and wheezed more.

"Closing in. t-minus 5 minutes. " FRIDAY announced

“Just hang on, kid” Tony ordered “And never call yourself stupid again do you hear me?”

“Bu-but I-” He stuttered out “I went out without- and I- now I’m stuck, I-”

Tony let his eyes shut for a few seconds to contemplate what to say next as the kid kept talk/whimpering.

“You went after this guy without the suit” He repeated himself, but as a statement of fact, rather than an accusation

“.... Y-you said that… If I’m nothing without th-the suit I shouldn’t have it” Peter recalled, his voice growing quiet, contemplative despite the ache in his tone.

“.... And here you are, still getting into shit without it” He continued “You’ve got quite the will, kid.”

"T-minus 3 minutes"

He heard Peter take a deep, seemingly calming breath, and mutter something to himself

“Pete?” Tony voiced.

“Come on Spiderman.. Come on Spiderman, come on” Peter was repeating to himself, sounding strained, the rubble sound was moving

“Peter?? The hell are you doing?? Peter?” Tony saw the building - or what was left of it- and noticed the not insignificant amount of debris that was currently moving.

“Come on Spiderman come on!!!” Peter almost screamed, and Tony put two and two together, feeling himself nearly go lightheaded as he figured out what had happened and what was happening

The kid had been left to die, crushed under rubble

And now he was getting himself out using his own strength

Peter let out a yell from the exertion, pushed to his absolute limit as he continued to lift the rubble off of himself. Tony could hear it. It sounded painful and like it was taking everything he had. “FRIDAY, scan for him, now!”

But before FRIDAY could find him, an AC unit the size of a bus was pushed over, and out came a very distressed, but relieved Spiderman.

Tony didn’t think he could feel relief like this anymore. He touched down a few feet from the kid, and Peter looked back at him, panting. He didn’t even need to ask for FRIDAY to scan for injuries.

As the scan commenced he looked over the boy, who was covered in scrapes and bruises, dirt and grime, water and sweat. Saying he was worse for wear felt like an understatement. He was dressed in that homemade costume he’d worn before Tony has gifted him the suit and it was - surprisingly- still in one piece despite everything. From the looks of it, so were his web shooters. Peter was still looking back at him, panting heavily and gripping his mask tightly in one hand. His brown eyes were wide as saucers and his hair was sticking up a little funny. His expression however, was hard to read.

“His 3rd left rib had been cracked but is already healing, though others are bruised , and he has sprained his ankle, though it is, again, already showing signs of healing. Miraculously, he is at about 90 percent fine” Friday concluded.

“..... kid”

Tony couldn't think of what he could say now. Peter stared back at him for a few more seconds before he tilted his head a bit

“...... Are.... Are you really here?”

He had the mask lift to reveal his face, hoping that his panic didn't show too bad. He had to play it cool for this kid, of course. He didn’t think the kid could look more surprised but he was continually underestimating Peter, it seemed. The two simply stared at one another, each unsure of how to proceed. Should Peter try to run? Should Tony get stern with him again? It was unclear at this point. Suddenly Peter turned his head and looked up, where the vulture was perched

“H-he’s still here??” the boy exclaimed, slighting loosing his footing as he turned and nearly falling over, caught by his forearm before he could hurt himself further

“I’m sorry, where do you think you’re going?” The man asked incredulously

“.... “ Peter looked down for a moment, heavily contemplative before speaking “I created this mess. I have to fix it. There’s still time”

“You nearly died, i think you’ve done-”

“Not this time!” Peter interrupted, almost screaming “.... Not this time, Mister Stark” he repeated, quieter this time “... Please”

Tony Stark was starting to realize that this damn kid was going to be the death of him- or himself, if he wasn’t careful.

“.. You’re gonna do this no matter what, huh” Again, another statement.

“I uh, figured I’d proven that already” He awkwardly shrugged

Tony sighed, the mask coming back down “Then mask up, Spiderman.”

The awed stare only lasted a few seconds before Peters grin took over, threatening to aggravate a cut on his lower lip. He put on his makeshift mask, and pointed up

“He’s waiting. I don’t even think he knows you’re here” He started “He’s gonna rob the cargo plane. The one form the old Avengers Tower!”

“Huh. Well, I think its about time we got off our asses and stopped him, hm?”

He could practically *feel* Peters grin return as he shot a webshooter and just took off.

Tony heaved a deep sigh “Yup, here we go” Tony muttered, following behind. "FRIDAY, contact Happy and tell him that i need to talk"

"of course, sir"

There was much to discuss. But first, a nasty asshole who nearly killed his a kid needed some serious thwarting. It could wait

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