Chapter Text
Peter paced outside of Stark Industries, a thin sheen of sweat starting to cover his skin. It was nearing the thirty minute mark since he’d arrived, and the sun was only intensifying the heat radiating from his anxiety ridden body. He checked the time for probably the tenth time in the same amount of minutes and pulled at the string on his old uniform jacket, staring up at the towering building that was Stark Industries.
May was gone.
It had been three days. It felt like both the longest and shortest three days of his life. Time didn’t feel like it was even a real thing anymore—days now blending together into a muddled haze of worry and unspoken regrets.
After calling the police and giving his statement, Peter managed to sneak out of the apartment from his window. He knew that if he stuck around, they would call social services, and that was the last thing he wanted. He refused to allow Child Services to stick him with some family he didn’t know while his Aunt was who knows where.
Peter couldn’t go home or back to school, so he hadn’t really eaten or slept outside of the bare minimum he could scrounge from vending machines and naps on park benches. Ned made him crash for a few hours at his place after they made their plan the night before, but Peter didn’t want to stay there any longer than he had to. He’d already gotten one person he cared about kidnapped, and he didn’t need Ned targeted next.
Peter hated that the situation came to this. He never wanted or anticipated anyone figuring out his true identity. It was the reason why when Mr. Stark found Peter patrolling and asked if he would aid him in Germany, he agreed, only under the condition that he not have to disclose his name. He was sure that if Mr. Stark wanted to know, he could find out whether Peter told him or not, but he trusted the man enough not to go behind his back. So Peter kept on his mask.
Now he didn’t have a choice. He could go to Mr. Stark and tell him what happened as civvie Peter Parker, but Mr. Stark wouldn’t take it seriously. People get kidnapped everyday. It’s unfortunate and tragic, but it wasn’t his jurisdiction. It’s not every day that a super hero’s family gets taken, though. There could be any number of reasons behind the attack, and for all he knew, May could be the first of many that got taken. If he didn’t warn Mr. Stark, which one of their loved ones would be targeted next? There was too much at stake to keep it a secret.
Somehow though, it felt like in telling Mr. Stark, he was giving up Spider-Man. Mr. Stark hadn’t contacted him even once since Germany, despite him trying valiantly to get his attention. Happy wasn’t thrilled about it, and Peter wasn’t exactly proud of his desperation, but he knew he could do more if only they would only let him. He could make a difference, save lives, just like they did, but once Mr. Stark knew his identity, if his age wasn’t enough to make Mr. Stark ban him from future missions and take his suit back, the fact he was targeted would.
Peter tried to find May on his own, looking into that weird octopus symbol on the floor and getting Ned to hack into the security cameras around their apartments, but they were all clean. Wiped, actually, which felt worse. Whoever he was dealing with was smart. He didn’t have anything else to go on and each day that he waited was another day May could be getting tortured, if the blood they left behind was any indication. The worst part was that May didn’t know anything. Even if she wanted to, she wouldn’t be able to give them what they wanted , and it was all his fault.
It was that thought that finally pushed him to start what he came here to do. He took a seat on a bench by the bright flower bed near the entrance, opened his laptop and pulled out a flash drive. Within a minute, he was able to scan the fake ID badge he and Ned made, giving himself access to all floors. There was a long pause then a beep of affirmation, and Peter was finally able to let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding. If even one of the numbers had been off, the badge wouldn’t have worked, and chances were, Tony-or at least his security-would have been notified. Peter scoffed, deprecatingly at the thought. And this is supposed to be the easy part.
Peter connected his phone and the computer, tilting the screen down to avoid anyone else seeing what he was doing, and put in his earpiece. He clicked the button on the side, a green light flashing.
“Ned, you there?” He whispered.
“Yeah, here. Did you fix the cameras?” Peter could hear Ned chewing on what was probably Cheese Balls and his stomach rumbled. What he wouldn’t give to be the man in the chair right now.
“Working on that now. I already scanned the badge though,” Peter said, brows furrowed as he worked his way through the firewalls.
“Sweet,” Ned laughed. “I was only like 30% sure that was going to work.”
“What?” Peter squawked, indignantly. “That would’ve been nice to know, Ned!”
A couple walked past him, eyeing him warily. Peter forced out an awkward laugh, flushing, and waved at them politely. They exchanged glances, but continued walking. Peter didn’t miss how they picked up their pace, but he didn’t mind, waiting until they disappeared into the building to start up again.
“Sorry, man. Didn’t want to freak you out,” Ned said easily, brushing the cheesy dust onto his pants. “You inside yet?”
Peter closed the laptop, and shoved it in his bag. “Working on it.”
Peter walked briskly-but not too briskly-to the front doors, and as soon as he stepped through, his stomach dropped.
Oh god,” he breathed.
Peter wasn’t sure what he was thinking he would see when he made it inside, but a near empty room wasn’t it. He figured he would be able to blend into the background, weave in and out of people, remain invisible in the masses, but that was kind of hard to do without people to shield him, especially in a room this size.
“What? What is it?” Ned asked. “Did they already catch you. It was the key card wasn’t it? Oh god, I’m so sorry, Pet-“
“Shh,” Peter muttered quietly. He kept his feet moving, despite every fiber of his being telling him to abort mission. “Which way?”
“Elevator on your left,” Ned coaxed.
Peter looked up and nodded at the elevator sign, then ducked his head back down.
“Can I help you?”
Peter’s eyes shot up. A brunette guy at the front desk was looking at him expectantly. Peter’s mouth opened but he couldn’t make his brain work.
“Oh god,” Ned moaned.
Peter’s brain didn’t have time to think of an excuse before his mouth blurted out, “Bathroom?”
“Nice,” Ned said, amused. “So smooth.”
Peter fought the urge to roll his eyes. The man, however, seemed none the wiser, laughing at the deep blush on Peter’s face and pointed down the hall. “Right down this hall then take the first left across from the elevators. If you hit the coffee room, you went too far.”
“Right. Thanks,” Peter said, letting out a relieved breath.
“No problem. Let us know if you need anything else.”
Peter gave him a polite smile then started to walk again, trying to keep his face down as much as he could without looking obvious. He didn’t need anyone asking anymore questions.
“Okay, so you’ll need to scan the card when you get inside and hit the penthouse button. According to his schedule he will have a meeting in about an hour, so you’ve still got time. It will go straight to his floor, so you don’t have to worry about people. Apparently he likes to avoid being stuck in there with his employees. Or maybe it’s a security thing. I don’t know. I’ll have to give you an override code before it’ll move though, so tell me when you’re ready,” Ned explained, the clicking of a mouse in the background.
“I’m inside. You ready?”
“Yep. Press the button.”
Peter did as he was told, and a see-through screen with lit up numbers popped from below the call buttons with a small beep.
“Whoa, this is cool,” Peter whispered.
“It’s T͏e͏ch in Stark Industries. What did you expect. Password is EDWIN53.”
“Edwin?” Peter asked as he typed it in. “Huh. Think it’s Mr. Stark’s middle name?
The elevator started to move.
“No, his is Edward,” Ned answered.
Peter’s lips turned down in acknowledgment and he watched the numbers above the elevator, shifting nervously.
10. 11. 12.
“Ned?”
“Yeah?”
15. 16. 17.
“What am I supposed to say?” Peter whispered.
Ned leaned back in his chair and looked at the ceiling, wincing at the rawness in Peter’s voice. He had wondered that too, almost as soon as Peter asked for his help. Honestly, Ned wanted Peter to tell Stark from the beginning, after Stark confronted him the first time. The dude made Peter a suit. He obviously thought Peter was awesome if he asked for his help. Peter could be a freaking Avenger! Ned understood why Peter didn’t want to tell him then, though, but it did make things harder to explain now. As true as it was, Peter didn’t need to hear that.
“Just tell him the truth, I guess,” Ned said, spinning in his chair slowly. “He’s a good guy. He will understand.”
Peter nodded, even though Ned couldn’t see him.
48. 49. 50.
“You okay?”
Peter adjusted his backpack. Was he okay? He felt like every floor put more pressure in his body, making his blood too loud in his ears, his lungs unable to inflate. Questions he didn’t want to say out loud before were pushed from his mouth.
“What if he can’t help? What if he won’t?”
“Peter, man you gotta breathe,” Ned said, nervously. “It’ll work out, I promise. We will get May back. Even if it’s just you and me, we will figure it out.”
74. 75. 76.
Peter was shaking now. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. He muttered to himself under his breath, trying to get his breathing under control.
“Peter. Think about it. He’s Iron Man. He will help you.”
Out of everything Ned said, that seemed to make the most sense to him. He was Iron Man. He was a hero. Even if he couldn’t do anything himself, he would help in another way. He wouldn’t just push him away. Not after Peter had helped him.
“Thanks, Ned. You really are the best friend ever,” Peter laughed shakily.
“That’s what I’m here for. Just your friendly neighborhood guy in the chair,” Ned answered, grinning. Peter laughed again.
The elevator dinged and the doors opened. Peter looked around, stepping over the doorway. The room was huge, more open than he expected. A beautiful living room with black furniture opened up to a large kitchen across the room. Mr. Stark was at the bar, pouring some kind of amber alcohol into a glass.
“You the one that hacked into my system?” He asked without looking up. The doors closed behind Peter and his mouth went dry. No turning back now. He couldn’t make his tongue work, so he nodded.
“Not cool, kid. What were you wanting to achieve?Wanting to come steal something, sell it on EBay? Maybe get an autograph?” Mr. Stark walked around the bar, and started toward him. “Newsflash, I’m not a big fan of kids who mess with my things.”
“I-I need your help,” Peter stuttered.
Mr. Stark scoffed. “You need my help? Seems like you’re more than capable of figuring things out on your own to me.”
“My aunt,” Peter said hurriedly, anxiety racking through his body. This wasn’t going well. “Somebody took my aunt.”
Tony frowned, the ice in his glass rattling around when he sat on the rounded couch. “Police are there for a reason, kid. You report it?”
“Tell him who you are Peter,” Ned urged in his ear.
“I can’t,” He said, brokenly. His breaths were getting harsher.
“Why not?” Mr. Stark asked, irritably. “How do you expect anyone to be able to help if you haven’t done the most obvious thing?”
“You have to. Tell him, dude.”
Tony stood up again, leaving his glass on the side table.
“Look, kid, I know you must be scared but you have to let the police do their job. We can’t be everywhere at once. Let me call you a ride and you can-“
No. No, this can’t be happening. He couldn’t do this by himself. He needed Mr. Stark. Needed him to help. She was as good as gone if he didn’t.
“Peter!” Ned urged.
“I’m Spider-Man,” he blurted. “I’m sorry, I should have told you before, but the cops can’t find her. They grabbed her and there was blood and I can’t-I can’t-“ Peter sobbed, his shoulders hunching in on themselves. “They took her and I can’t find her. Not by myself.”
This was Spider-Man? This-this kid? Tony had to fight back the urge to laugh. There was no way. He couldn’t be more than sixteen. It was impossible. Well, no. Not impossible. More like improbable. Videos of Spider-Man in action started on YouTube a year before Tony even found him. That would have made the kid 14 or 15 when he started the superhero biz. Don’t kids that age still have curfews? Yeah. No. There was no way the person in front of him was Spider-Man.
Peter could see the conflict on Tony’s face and pulled out his mask, holding it out and letting it hang between tightly clenched fingers.
“You made me this,” Peter insisted, his voice thick. “You said that you wouldn’t be seen with a superhero wearing pajamas.”
Tony froze. Now that-that did sound familiar. Tony ran through everything he knew about Spider-Man in his mind and cursed. If he was telling the truth, which was still a big all-caps IF, that would mean he let a freaking child fight full-fledged Avengers. When Spider-Man wanted to keep his identity a secret, he thought it was because he wanted to protect his family or keep himself from getting sucked into the superhero lifestyle. He never in a million years imagined it was because he was too young to even vote!
None of that mattered right now, though. Before he could register what he was doing, he was at the kid’s side, putting a strong hand on each shoulder. Peter looked up at him with teary, hopeful eyes and damn if it didn’t make guilt shoot through him.
“I don’t know how much of this I believe yet, but I promise you we will figure this out.”
It was like a dam opened and all the pent up feelings blooming from uncertainty of the last few days spilled out. Peter didn’t hesitate to throw arms around him, and Tony thought about pulling away, but he was shaking so hard Tony thought he might fall apart.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Tony said quietly, patting him awkwardly. “It’s okay. This jacket is Armani though, so you’re going to have to stop crying.”
Peter let out a shocked, wet laugh and Tony smiled, pulling him away. “Come sit down. You have a lot of explaining to do.”