Chapter Text
Peter froze as he realized that the science lab wasn't empty, despite Stonybrook being definitely closed. He had to climb in through the gym window for gosh sake! How was he supposed to have known that the very room where he left his bag was the one room that would be occupied?
It didn't much matter now though, because Peter was now standing face to face with his science teacher (who also happened to be Peter's favorite teacher in the world), his spidey mask in his hand and a very visible gash across his left temple.
Peter squeaked (god that was so embarrassing just speak!) before the words started tumbling out.
"Ohmygod Mr. Grace I am so so so sorry I didn't realize anyone was in here!Not that im blaming you of course not listen I can explain I left my bag because I took my gym bag on accident after school but I needed my actual bag and this is just a costume for fun I sometimes like to dress up (please let him believe this) I swear im so sorry I broke in - "
Mr. Grace lifted his hand, palm facing out like he did in class when Peters classmates got too rowdy. Peter stopped speaking abruptly, biting his lip and looking down. Not before noticing that Mr. Grace had slipped his glasses back to their proper position on the ridge of his nose, which was strange because Mr. Grace's glasses were almost always hanging precariously off of a single ear or the collar of his sweater.
"Are you hurt?"
Peter looked up. Much to his surprise, there wasn't a look of anger or disappointment (Peter would've probably died on the spot if Mr. Grace ever looked at him with disappointment) on the mans face, not even confusion, which would have been understandable given the state Peter was in. No, Mr. Grace just looked concerned.
"Oh! uh- no I don't think so." Peter said, lifting a hand to his throbbing temple and observing the blood that coated his fingers as he pulled away. "Uh- just a little bruise I think"
Mr. Grace's eyebrows lifted up in skepticism and Peter shrunk just a little. The look of exasperation on his teachers face reminded him suddenly of Mr. Stark, the way a single look could convey so much and so little at the same time was honestly frightening.
"Come over here." Mr. Grace said, standing up and making his way over to the far end of the lab. Peter unstuck his feet and dutifully followed, thinking of the ten million ways he was going to be punished. The lab was bright thanks to the fluorescent lighting that lit up the workstations and fume hoods. Despite the bright lighting, it was odd to be in the lab when the windows lining the back wall showed the dark outside, or as dark as the city of New York could ever be. Peter had never been in the lab at night, though he had been in the lab essentially every other moment in time.
Peter spent most of his time either at Mr. Starks tower on Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday afternoons after school in the Biological Sciences lab that was officially headed by Dr. Banner but was really just Peter's at this point, or in here, with the Science Bowl team on Tuesdays and Thursdays, the Science Olympiad team Thursdays and Fridays, and the VEX Robotics team during the lunch hour every other day.
So the Stonybrook biological teaching lab was basically like his second home. All of the elective Biology and Chemistry lab sections were taught in there with Mr. Grace, who headed every single afterschool team that Peter was on. (He had initially only joined Science Olympiad because MJ had persuaded him, but was very easily convinced by Ned and Mr. Grace to join all of the others.)
Peter loved science, and was actually good at it. Physics was his favorite, (which he would never tell Mr. Grace, who's true love and expertise had always been in Biology), which was great because it was also the one he was the worst in. Peter really only got to do physics when he was working with Mr. Stark in his personal lab. Biology and Chemistry were awesome too, which was good because Peter's personal project was a mixture between the both of them.
Peter had been alone in the lab all the time before, which he was honestly proud of because he was one of the only students who Mr. Grace trusted enough to let him use the lab on his own. To be honest, the times when he was alone in the lab was few and far between, because it seemed like Mr. Grace lived in the lab himself.
Over the last semester, Peter had found himself getting to know Mr. Grace, the way the man was actually extremely awkward around other adults, the way he sometimes wouldn't talk for hours on end, the way he would light up whenever a student asked him a question, it all made Peter wonder.
His teacher was sort of a mystery, and it was a well known one. He hadn't been the only student to wonder about their favorite teachers past, Peter was just the only one who spent enough time in the lab to really get the chance to see little bits past the general teacher behavior. The Science Olympiad team's favorite topic of conversation non-science related was their teacher, who somehow managed to be the most dorky adult Peter knew and also simultaneously the most mysterious, funny how that works.
Peter was running through a list of possible punishments as he made his way over to his teacher. Mr. Grace seemed to be rummaging around in a cabinet for something, and Peter was getting more anxious about the elephant in the room by the second.
"Got it." Mr. Grace said, turning around with what looked like a frumpy first aid kit. He smiled briefly before turning his attention to finding whatever he was looking for inside. All of a sudden Peter couldn't handle the quiet.
"Mr. Grace." Peter blurted. The man in question looked up, eyebrows raised. "Are you- this is a costume I-" Peter broke off, suddenly unsure of what to say.
"Relax, Peter. I know. I've known for awhile, actually." Mr. Grace says quietly, pulling out alcohol swabs and bandages.
"What- How? I mean-" Peter's stuttering, but he can't help it. No one is supposed to know! No one can know! That what Mr. Stark tells him every day. How could he possibly know - ?
"I overheard Ned and MJ a few months ago, put two and two together." Mr. Grace said, shrugging. "Do you want to clean it yourself or do you want me to do it?" It took Peter a second to realize that his teacher was offering a small handheld mirror and an alcohol drenched wipe. Peter went to take them but found that his hands were shaking pretty violently, and all of a sudden Peter remembered what had happened not even five minutes ago.
Peter was pretty good at managing stress, he had to be, as New Yorks freindly neighbor. He hadn't been out on patrol for awhile, between school, his research, and Aunt May being in and out of the hospital, he had asked Happy if he could take less patrol shifts. Happy had acted annoyed, but Mr. Stark had been trying to convince Peter to take it a bit easier these days, so Peter knew he wouldn't mind.
So it had been the first time in a few weeks, and Peter had been doing great until he attempted stopping what looked to be an ordinary robbery, but was blindsided by some evil high tech particle weapons that Peter had never seen before. He had managed to get away, but had lost his suits radio in the process. He had went to get his badge to get into Stark towers and tell Mr. Stark and Happy right away, but he had realized that he had accidentally taken his gym bag, and left his actual bag with his ST ID card in the science lab.
Which of course, had led him to breaking into the school after hours and finding Mr. Grace. The weapons had delivered some pretty nasty high powered electrical shocks, and it seemed his body hadn't caught up with his head just yet.
Peter inhaled sharply as another bout of pain throbbed in his head and he let out a squeak of pain, which was definitely not very superhero of him, but he couldn't find it in himself to really care.
"Alright, it's ok, your ok bud, can I help you?"
Peter nods after a moment, and slumps into the stool Mr. Grace had pulled for him.
"M'sorry." Peter mumbles, shutting his eyes tightly. Apparently the initial shock and distraction of seeing another person in the school had worn off quickly, and now all he felt was pain.
"This will probably sting." He warns gently, ignoring the apology.
Peter doesn't even really feel the alcohol over his cut through the haze of his budding headache.
"I need to go to Stark Towers." Peter says faintly as Mr. Grace wipes away the remaining blood.
"You need to see a doctor." Mr. Grace says, shaking his head minutely.
"You're a doctor." Peter says. He doesn't realize until too late that this reveals Peter's little investigation into Mr. Grace's life, he knew that his teacher had gotten a his PhD in molecular and cellular biology at UC Berkeley.
"Yes well, you need to see a medical doctor." Mr. Grace replies after a beat. Peter's thankful that the man didn't point it out.
Mr. Grace applies the bandages with hands that seem a bit too familiar with the movements. He places a bottle of aspirin in Peters hands and puts the first aid kit away before sitting opposite of Peter, seated in one of the table chairs that's lower than the stool Peter's sitting on. Unfortunately this puts him right in Peters line of sight, as he's sort of hung his head at this point.
"Do you want me to call your aunt - ?"
"No! uh- no thanks. I can make it home alright." Peter says shakily, moving to stand up. Mr. grace lifts his hand again and Peter stops trying to stand up.
"I can't let you leave on your own buddy, you're probably concussed. The only reason I'm not shipping you off to the ER is because of… well, I understand there's a need for discretion." Mr. Grace says, nodding to the suit Peter's still in.
"Please don't call her… she's not even home right now." Peter admits, thinking of the cold hospital room that May insists he doesn't stay overnight in with her. Mr. Grace eyes him with this look that was laced with understanding, and suddenly Peter's even more interested in Mr. Grace's past.
"Okay, I won't call her. Is there anyone else…? Preferably an adult?"
Peter thinks. He does know Happy's number by heart. He also knows Mr. Starks personal line by heart.
"Do you think this qualifies as an emergency?" Peter asks suddenly. He's not supposed to call Happy unless he "is two seconds from death", and it goes to reason that Mr. Starks line is probably reserved for after said death.
"You can tell 'em I made you." Mr. Grace says firmly. Ok then, emergency it is.
"Can I borrow your phone?"
Peter types Happy's number in and presses call. Peter knows with certainty after the first two rings that Happy isn't going to pick up. He's always insistent on never answering an unnamed number calling him, claiming security reasons that Peter never listens too. With a sigh, he types in Mr. Starks number, but before he can hit call, a loud crashing noise from outside in the hallways makes him freeze.
In an instant he can feel goosebumps rising on his arms and neck. Mr. Grace, who had also flinched, turned to the door leading into the hall. Peter had shut it on his way in, but the glass panes on either side showed complete darkness in the hall. The glass panes had also made it very clear to whatever made that sound where they were.
"We should go." Peter whispers, thinking about the men from the bank who wore paper bag masks and held weapons he had never seen before.
Could they have followed me? Peter thinks. The brain fog had evaporated with the adrenaline and cortisol spike, and Peter realized how vulnerable they were.
"Peter…" Mr. Grace said, his voice surprising even for how jumpy and anxious Peter knows his teacher is.
"Listen, we just have to get out. Can we use the windows?"
They froze again as what sounded like a large group of people made their way down the hall, towards the lab.
"Yes lets use the windows." Mr. Grace says, voice high.
They manage to leave the lab quietly. It takes a second for Peter's eyes to get used to the darkness, but they make it to the front of the building with relative ease.
"Okay, this definitely constitutes an emergency." His teacher says, eyeing the entrance.
"Yes, oh, right!" Peter lifts the phone to his teachers face to unlock it, and Peter sees the fear in Mr. Grace's eyes as the phone briefly lights up his face, and his stomach falls. Peter is so used to being around superheroes that he sometimes forgets just how terrifying everything is to someone who isn't used to it. If his science teacher was okay with Peter being spider man before, he probably wasn't okay with it now. After all, Peter did probably just lead a horde of criminals to Mr. Grace's lab.
Before he can overthink too much, he hits the call button. For a few moments, Peter's seized with fear at the idea of Mr. Stark not picking up, without his bag (still inside the lab), he wouldn't be able to get into the tower.
"Kid?"
Peter breathes a sigh of relief at Mr. Starks voice.
"Mr. Stark! I'm so sorry to bother you but I don't have my badge so I wasn't able to just come over and Happy didn't pick up I really wouldn't normally bother you but -"
"Kid, Pete! It's okay, what's happened?"
So Peter gives a brief synopsis on the current situation, choosing to leave certain parts out, like the fact that he wasn't alone and that he had dragged a civilian (his own teacher!) into it all and had also simultaneously revealed himself as spider man.
Said teacher was doing his best to make it not look like he was listening, but he could definitely hear every word Mr. Stark said, and Peter was slightly mortified at the thought of what Mr. Stark may say.
"Peter, who is 'we'?" Mr. Stark asked, slightly strained.
"Oh! Uh… It's my teacher." Peter said defeated, letting his chin drop to his chest again.
"Your teacher?" Mr. Stark repeated.
"Yeah, uh, Mr. Grace? My science teacher." Peter said, refusing to look his teacher in the eye.
"I'm deploying Mary, ok? She'll be there soon and you can go get your badge, then come here. You understand?" Peter nodded, Mary was one of Mr. Starks suits.
"Yes, sorry - thank you." Peter said, grateful that whatever lecture he had coming was going to wait until Mr. Grace couldn't hear, if there was one thing Mr. Stark didn't do, it was humiliating Peter in front of other people.
"Okay, bud. Now put your teacher on the line."
Peter swallowed and eventually looked up. Mr. Grace was already looking at him, and he was now wearing an expression that looked as if he'd rather do anything than get on the phone with Tony Stark. Peter understood, the man was definitely intimidating. He tried to give Mr. Grace and encouraging smile as he handed the phone over. Tony probably just wanted to make sure Mr. Grace wouldn't blab, maybe even offer him money.
Mr. Grace pressed the phone to his ear but didn't say anything. Peter watched curiously as Mr. Grace definitely avoided his eye.
"To who must I compensate for the actions of the kid." Mr. Stark said at last, breaking the silence.
"I don't need compensation." Mr. Grace said sharply. Peter did a double take, he had never heard Mr. Grace sound annoyed, Peter didn't even know the guy had a temper.
Peter held his breath waiting for the inevitable angry response that would basically serve no purpose but to intimidate others from Mr. Stark.
Nothing came. It was silence, for almost a full minute.
"Ryland..?"
Peter's mouth opened.
Peter knew that Mr. Grace's first name was Ryland, but he had never heard anyone call him that, not even his fellow teachers. He had also never heard Mr. Stark sound so uncertain of himself. Peter watched as whatever annoyance that had risen in Mr. Grace softened and slunk out of him.
"Hey, Tony." his teacher said finally.
There were very few people who could get away with calling Mr. Stark by his first name.
"I- tell Pete I'm on my way. Four minutes." The line goes dead.
Mr. Grace, Peter's favorite teacher and one of the few people who truly believed in him, looked very not happy.
They were on the North side of the building, tucked behind a small brick coverall that blocked them from view, but gave them a good line of sight to the entrance of the building. Peter's goose bumps had gone away during his conversation with Tony, and the pain in his head threatened to return, but Peter didn't care. He was too busy trying to understand what the heck just happened. Mr. Stark almost never came out to help Peter himself, Mr. Stark never sounded like that.
Mr. Grace, his dorky and endearing science teacher, knew Mr. Stark. Not just knew, but had some sort of history with him. Mr. Grace had called Mr. Stark "Tony", and now suddenly Mr. Stark is suiting up to meet them?
Peter watches as Mr. Grace leans back against the stone wall and slides down, sitting with his knees up and his back to the wall and lets his head hang forward. Suddenly, Peter doesn't care very much about how they knew each other. Peter tried to ignore the waves of guilt that pulsed through him, out of everyone knew knew, Mr. Grace was probably the last person he'd ever want involved in anything dangerous.
"Are you okay?" Peter asked quietly, sliding down to sit next to his teacher. After a moment, he lifted his head.
"Yeah bud, I'm okay. Just a bit overwhelmed."
"Oh, yeah, I understand." Peter said quickly. There was silence again, until Peter just couldn't help himself. "I'm so sorry Mr. Grace, I'm so so sorry I had no idea they followed me I would never ever put you in danger like that ever if I had known."
"It's not your fault, Peter. I'm alright, you're okay, everything is okay." Mr. Grace says, letting out a deep sigh. "How is your head?"
"It's better I think."
"Good."
"Can I ask you something?"
There's a brief pause before Peter rushes to speak again.
"Not about Mr. Stark- just, a different question?"
"Sure Peter, what's up?"
"Do you have like… medical experience or something?" Peter had been thinking about how easily his teacher had helped him with a cut that most people would assume needed stitches. He's surprised when Mr. Grace laughs.
"No, no, nothing like that. Just a brother."
Oh! A brother? Peter didn't know that, he (again) didn't really know anything about Mr. Grace, and a brother was definitely new. Peter didn't say anything, hoping that maybe Mr. Grace would keep talking. He didn't, of course. Those psychology tips to let silence get people to reveal more about themselves was complete baloney.
But it was quiet, almost peaceful. The city background noises were so ingrained that they too even sounded softer. Without any danger present, Peter feels brave enough to ask another question.
"Uh- Is he younger..? Older..?" Peter asks.
"Both, I guess."
"Ah, middle child. That makes sense." Peter says knowingly. He's glad when Mr. Grace laughs again, he had seemed so upset a few minutes ago and Peter was glad he could help.
"Actually, I'm a twin. Technically I'm older, but he'd probably throw a fit if he heard anyone call him the youngest."
"And an older brother?" Peter prompts, excited with his success. But something changes in Mr. Grace's expression, and Peter has a terrible feeling he knows why.
"Sorry - I shouldn't pry- "
"It's alright, Yeah, also an older brother. Six years older."
Peter was about to ask their names when he heard the familiar sounds of Mr. Stark's suit. It was coming from generally behind them. They both stood up just in time for Mr. Stark to land in the entry patio. His suit quickly melts into the nano-particle releaser on his chest, and Peter quickly realizes that there is a moment that is currently going on and Peter's unsure as to what it means.
Mr. Stark approaches them, glances at Peter, seizing up his injuries, before turning to Mr. Grace completely. Peter watches as neither of them say anything for a few moments.
"You stitched him up." Mr. Stark says, his voice coming out rather thickly.
"Mhm."
"Peter, go get your bag please." Mr. Stark says.
"What!" Peter yelped. "I'm not going in there by myself!"
"Mary's in there, Pete." Tony says again. Peter fumes, he knows what Mr. Stark is really asking, but is annoyed enough to mutter as he leaves.
"Well I'd make introductions but I guess I don't have too."
Ryland Grace is just trying to return some semblance of normalcy to his life, is that so much to ask? The job in New York at a fancy, funded high school had been a parting gift from Eva Stratt, who had told him to try and keep his colorful opinions to himself for the foreseeable future, as the job was hard enough to secure as the dictator of the earth.
After the Astrophage crisis had been solved, with the three heroes escorted back to earth by the freaking Avengers, Stratt had let him move back to the states. He had worked nearly four years on Stratt's Vat, two years after the crew had been sent up.
He had barely any contact with anyone he knew, (which consisted of literally only Colt and Jody), and had been basically tossed off the carrier ship with nothing more than a "thank you for your service" card Carl had gotten him. At least Stratt had got him this job, as Grover Middle had closed down, and Colt had no where left to go.
So he moved to New York without much of a thought. He was much closer to Colt now, who lived semi-permanently in the DC area when he wasn't off filming.
The job at Stonybrook had been great for him. With access to a well funded lab, he was able to pick up some of the research he had dropped almost a decade ago after his not-so-graceful exit from academia. He knew he'd never be welcomed back, but doing things with his afternoons was great for him to not go crazy!
It was an adjustment, to be sure. He went from teaching middleschoolers, to teaching astronauts, to teaching highschoolers. Honestly, the teenagers were brutal, but it didn't take long for him to fall into his stride.
The wonder wasn't gone from these kids, it was just buried very, very deeply. He loved the middleschoolers, he truly did, but the older the kids were, the more he got to interact with the students who chose to take his science electives, rather than the kids who really just wanted to play basketball and had to be in his class to move on to the 8th grade.
He had been fortunate enough to be allowed to start up the Robotics team here, and he was honestly surprised that there hadn't already been one. Some of his students were really bright, and he felt grateful to have a part in what was sure to be some very bright futures.
Peter Parker had been one of the brighter ones. He was so eager to learn, and had some really great ideas. Grace made a rule to never pick favorites, but he knew Peter's aunt had been diagnosed with cancer, and he had always had a soft spot, so when Peter started spending more and more time in the lab, Grace hadn't commented, but would help keep the kid busy with meaningful things to think about.
He'd visit Colt and Jody every once in awhile, Colt would tease him and Jody would dote, but he always left feeling better than he had come in. It took awhile for Grace to realize that he was lonely. He had spent so much time being kind of important and always being around Eva that he had forgotten what it was like to be alone.
Grace ignored the proximity to the only person who he'd ever fallen in love with.
He biked to campus, which was great for his wallet but terrible for pretty much everything else. It took nearly an hour to bike to and from the school. He was most definitely not a New York native, and it took him several tries to realize that all of the cars honking were honking at other cars and not him.
MJ and Ned, who were Peter's best friends, had essentially told him about Peter being spider man. It happened later in the previous semester, before Peter had joined the Quizbowl and Robotics team.
"Well, he really would. He's just so busy with his other things." MJ had said, pointedly, one day during lunch. Grace found it pretty endearing that some of his students like eating with him. Pathetically, he hated eating alone. He was always careful to keep his relationships with his students appropriate though, and only allowed it when there were Robotics meetings, or if someone was having a bad day.
"True, yeah he's really busy." Ned emphasized. Grace knew they were trying to get him to ask. After a few more statements about just how busy Peter was, and a comment from Ned wondering if it was healthy, and Grace caved.
So they had told him that he was spiderman, and it all really made sense. What didn't make sense, however, was the fact that according to MJ and Ned, both Peter's aunt May and fudging Tony Stark knew about this, and gosh the universe loved to be ironic. How is it the the first kids that Grace recruits to his robotics team, the first kids he lets himself care about, one of them happens to be very important to the one person in all of New York that Grace really, truly does not want to see.
It's fine, Peter has no reason to tell Grace anything, and there's even less of a reason for Tony to ever know that he's teaching highschool 12 minutes away from where the billionaire lives.
That particular piece of information makes it hard for Grace to ignore the proximity. He start's remembering the things he shut away a long time ago.
He's fine, everything is fine. Everything is great actually, except for the fact that Grace can hardly stand being at home. He can hardly stand the silence, the nondescript and barren apartment that is actually quite nice for his salary (not including the fund of money he earned on Stratts Vat, he hadn't even realize he had been getting paid, and had returned to find retirement level funds in his accounts), but he still can't stand it.
So he spent more and more time in the lab. It wasn't healthy, he knew that, he had essentially no life. Sometimes though, he couldn't really bring himself to care.
When Grace first saw Peter in the doorway, bleeding and clearly in shock at seeing his science teacher still in the school lab at 1am, his first response was concern. The boy was obviously in poor shape, and Grace did his best to calm the kid down.
It hadn't occurred to him until later that he was quite possibly going to have to speak with Tony, and the thought brought back years of repressed depression and anger. For Peter's sake, though, he could be cordial.
And then he had heard Tony's voice. Jets of unwelcome memories started pricking the corner of his eyes.
"Hey, Tony."
A few minutes later, the man himself was approaching him, and Grace couldn't stop himself from noticing. Tony had grown into himself, he'd aged, but looked just as compelling as he had when they'd first met. He'd grown, too. Grace had always had several inches on the man, but now stood only a couple of inches taller. He walked more confidently, and exuded good. Like the rest of the world, Grace had watched Tony burn his fathers weapons corporation into the ground and build it back up into something he could be proud of. Grace, despite everything in him, was also proud.
It didn't take away the hurt though.
Grace didn't even realize Tony had sent Peter away until the man stepped closer, keeping his eyes trained on Grace. Despite himself, he took a step back. It had been less than a minute, and Grace was already regretting this.
"You're teaching now." Tony spoke first, quietly, his eyes searching.
"And you're iron man now. Sort of makes us even, right?" Tony smiles, and Grace tracks the movement. His eyes flit back up to Tony's face, who smiles even wider, and Grace feels the top of his cheeks turn red.
"I'm surprised you made it off that carrier ship. Eva Stratt is a hell of a force."
"Hmph. I'm surprised you're alive, what with all the people trying to kill you and all."
"Y'know you're just as fucking cute as you were when I first met you."
At this, Grace takes a step back again.
"I don't think I can have this conversation with you right now, Tony." Grace says finally, letting out a tight breath. He's feeling pretty overwhelmed, the part about almost dying followed by an unexpected visitor is making him feel pretty shaky on his legs.
"Shit, I'm sorry, are you alright? The kid told me what happened- "
"I'm fine." Grace interrupted. "Just- you seem to have everything in control, so I'm just going to go home."
"What, you're going to bike home? Let me drive you." Tony said, eying the yellow bike Grace took too and from the school.
"Oh, no. I'll be fine." Grace said firmly, despite his hands visibly shaking.
"Mr. Stark he definitely can not get home on that bike right now." Peter Parker declared, re-emerging from the school with a fudging iron man suit marching out behind him. Grace shot him a look of betrayal. He at least had the decency to look sheepish.
"C'mon Ry -" Grace's head snapped to Tony, fitting the billionaire with one of his sternest glares.
"C'mon, Ryland." Tony corrected, lifting his hands up as if in surrender. "It's the least I can do for getting you involved in any of this."
"Please?" Peter added.
Grace sighed.
Peter didn't stop talking for most of the trip to Grace's apartment.
"You know Mr. Grace, New York really has a great transit and public transportation system. You'd probably have better luck on the subway than with that bike of yours."
"I tried once, it took me an hour to find my way out, and when I did, I called an uber because I was so lost. It turns out I was a block away from my apartment the whole time." Grace muttered, eyeing the sign indicating the subway entrance they were passing.
"Yeah they're sorta confusing at first. So what are your brother's names?"
Grace ignored the look Tony tossed him from the drivers side.
"Sorry- is it okay I asked that?" Peter said anxiously before Grace had a chance to say anything.
"Yeah, bud, it's okay. My twin brother's name is Colt." There was a pause. "Uh, my older brother, his name's Courtland."
Tony didn't say anything, and for once, Grace was grateful. Peter launched into an analysis of three brothers being named Courtland, Ryland, and Colt, in which Grace really wasn't listening to.
They pulled up to Grace's apartment a few minutes later, but before Grace could open the door, Tony had flicked the lock. Sighing, Grace leaned back into the seat and turned to Tony.
"Don't blame the kid for any of this." Tony says after a moment. Grace can tell that the words are not the ones the man really wants to say.
"I don't blame you if you blame me." Peter piped from the back, they both ignored this.
"I don't." Grace said simply, "Is that it?" Yes, he was being a little mean, but everything was starting to become too much, and he could feel himself slipping. He needed to be out of the car.
"Yeah." Tony said, conflicted.
Grace didn't wait for him to change his mind, but took his bag and bike from the back and left, pausing to wave to Peter, who waved back hesitantly.
He made it back into his apartment before things got really bad, and he fell asleep hoping he'd be ready to speak by the time he woke up.
Tony was deep in thought for the drive back to the tower. Peter didn't say much, which would usually concern Tony, but his mind was elsewhere.
Ryland Grace. God, he hadn't thought of the man in years, mostly because of the anxious hurls of guilt and regret that ran through him every time he did. Of course Pete's favorite science teacher would end up being the one person on the planet that all of Tony's lingering regret fell upon.
And of course, because the universe was fucking twisted, the man looked just as perfect as he had when Tony had first seen him.
Even back then, fresh out of graduate school and still eager to be a part of academia, Ryland had loved cardigans. The older and shittier the better, and Tony had no idea how the man pulled it off so endearingly. Ryland had been quiet, at least at first. Once you got him going though, he might never stop talking.
Tony didn't mind. Ryland was brilliant, smart in a different way than Tony. Smart in a way that made him incredibly sharp in conversation, and smart in a way that didn't make Tony feel inferior, but challenged him. Ryland thought of things differently, different than anyone else Tony had ever met. He could get going about a topic for hours and never realize he had completely lost his audience.
Ryland Grace was soft around the edges, he always had been. He was gentle, and had a temper so small and tame that Tony got away with a lot of things he probably shouldn't have.
Tony remembers hearing about the conference in Denmark. He had noted the date, and let his heart break for his friend. Though everything Ryland said reflected exactly what he was thinking, he'd most likely have never said it if it hadn't been for the day.
He wasn't soft in a pushover sort of way, though. He'd stand up for himself and for the things he cared about, but he did it so gently.
Sometimes, on bad days, Ryland wouldn't talk. It scared Tony at first, but the muteness didn't seem to be something he could control. It would just happen. Ryland was easily overwhelmed because he felt everything so deeply, the first time Tony had witnessed one of Ryland's bad days, he had found Ryland's phone and called the contact listed under Colt Seavers.
Rylands twin was a good guy, he took most of the self esteem for the two of them, which led to a sort of inflated ego. It was tempered greatly by Jody, a British woman who had Colt wrapped around her finger.
Ryland had always been loved so much more than he ever knew. Tony wasn't a perfect man by any means, and he certainly wasn't a good man fifteen years ago. Hot, white jealousy was his best friend as he watched man and woman alike approach Ryland. He'd obliviously ignore the sexual advances and find Tony later with a dazed sort of smile saying something like "They were nice", and Tony would have to tell him that they weren't nearly as interested in his research as much as they were interested in getting into his pants. He'd blush and roll his eyes, but not before brushing his hand gently on the small of Tony's back, leaning in to whisper something innocently filthy and kiss his cheek.
Now that Tony was thinking about the man, everything was starting to come back.
They didn't fight very often, but when they did, it usually ended up with Tony apologizing and crawling into bed with Ryland, who'd inevitably forgive him and pull him tight.
Ryland loved touching Tony, a loose arm around his shoulder, a gentle rub on his back, a brush of his hand over Tony's waist, all of it and more. He kissed like he was addicted to Tony; nine times out of ten, they'd start a movie and end it with Ryland licking into Tony's mouth.
Ryland didn't really have much of a sex drive, but when he got worked up he fucked like Tony was the only person on the entire planet. He was the first one to say "I love you." , which made sense because Tony had never been good at saying those kinds of things.
Tony could still remember the last time he saw Ryland for fifteen years. It was at Tony's dad's funeral. Ryland had held him through the tears, listened to the angry word vomit that Tony would spew about his dad, and supported him through every moment. Later that night, Tony had told Ryland that he needed space, which Ryland gave him.
Three days later, Tony had switched his number and moved to New York to take over his father's Weapons industry, holding on to the trumped up notion that Ryland would only slow him down. Obadiah had told him that he did the right thing, but years later, Obadiah would also try murdering him, so there wasn't much fruit to his claim.
He ignored the attempts Ryland made at contacting him, continued life being an asshole, and eventually became iron man.
He'd slept around, bringing home men and women, often at the same time, to curb the feelings of inadequacy he felt. Ryland had always encouraged Tony to do what he thought was right, and it took years of murder, corruption, and greed for Tony to realize what Ryland had known all along.
So Tony had made the change. He probably wouldn't have even needed to have been taken hostage for his perspective to change, Ryland had already set those cards in motion years before (the hostage thing certainly sped up the timing a bit).
Now, Tony was finally okay with what he was doing. He was trying his best to do the right thing, and he'd come to terms with his past.
Tony didn't ever really stop loving Ryland.
For all his claims of peace and healing, the one subject of his life that remained stubbornly repressed was Ryland. His regret was so heavy that he stopped thinking about him.
When Tony saw Ryland tonight for the first time in over a decade, the first feeling Tony felt was an insane urge to kiss the man soundly. It startled him, but it really shouldn't have.
Tony immediately felt terrible for his thoughts. Ryland probably wasn't the same man he was fifteen years ago, Tony certainly wasn't. For all he knew, Ryland could be married to some posh golfer.
But he wasn't. He was still the same guy. Quieter, a bit sharper, but still certainly the same man. He had taken Pete under his wing, just like Tony had. Tony had been hearing all sorts of stories and things about "Mr. Grace", who Tony had written off as another rando that Pete would forget about when he went on to his next science teacher.
Tony had loved Ryland through the nearly two years of their relationship. He knew him better than probably anyone else on the planet, and that knowledge didn't just go away. The recognition, the patterns were still ingrained in Tony's head, so he knew exactly what was going on with Ryland as the man left his car. He was overwhelmed, slipping into a dissociative episode, one that he was going to go through by himself, like he had for the past fifteen years. The guilt was starting to rear its ugly head.
Ryland had hated the medical terms. It had taken months of convincing for Tony to persuade Ryland to see a professional about his episodes, and even then Ryland didn't ever go to therapy after he had been diagnosed. Tony knew about Ryland's past. He knew about what Courtland had done to Rylands father, and he knew why. Colt was a bit more loose lipped when it came to their dead older brother, and had told him everything one tuesday evening at the bar. Ryland was away for a conference, and Jody was sick.
"Nah, I could take it. I was always more like Court than Ry ever was. Besides, Pop never went too far with me, I dont think he ever meant to kill me." Colt had said, sipping his beer contemplatively.
"What about Court?"
"He was different, I think Dad beat the fight out of him before we were even born probably. He'd take most of my punishments for me if he could."
Tony swallowed his liquor down quickly, letting the burn ground him. Howard Stark hadn't been the best of fathers, and had certainly laid hands on him as a kid, but not to the same extent.
"And Ry?"
"He was a lot more like mom than Court and I were. Always reading, tormented in school whenever I wasn't there to protect him."
"So what happened?"
"Shit, don't mention any of this to Ryland, okay? He doesn't even remember any of it." Tony had nodded solemnly. "Dad was shitfaced, something bad at work probably. He was looking for someone to take it out on, Ry was the first one he found."
Tony steeled himself. He wasn't drunk enough for this.
"We found them in the bathroom, Dad was drowning him in the tub." Colt said, like that was a totally normal sentence to utter. "I was terrified, because Dad was really going to kill him this time."
"That's when it happened?"
"Mhm. Court found Dad's gun a few months before. He was just cold to the world. Took Dad's gun and shot him in the back."
"How much does Ry know?"
"Most of it, he just doesn't remember it, and fuckin hates talking about it."
Tony never brought it up, but Ryland had referenced it occasionally. It had been a testament to Colt and Rylands connection that Colt knew that having someone understand and know without Ryland having to tell anyone was important to him.
They arrived to the tower without Tony even noticing. Peter had gone right off to his room (yes, Tony considered it his room, even though it was technically a guest room because why would an intern ever have their own room in the stark towers?), Tony would probably have to deal with that in the morning.
Tony distracted himself in the lab for a few hours, but couldn't stop his thoughts from turning to Ryland.
He went to bed that night in a swirling cloud of memories and regret, hoping that his brain will think of something while he sleeps.