Chapter Text
Everything Peter owned was currently shoved into two garbage bags, both of which sat in the backseat of Mr. White’s car. He wanted to bring them into the Tower, but Mr. White didn’t want him to have to carry them around. So, he came empty handed, shoving his hands into his pockets to avoid fiddling with them.
They were standing off to the side, a few steps out of the path of people coming and going, Peter nervously tapping his foot on the pristine floors.
Looking down, he caught sight of his reflection, a nervous face staring right back up at him. Everything was so polished and perfect, overwhelmingly so.
“It shouldn’t be much longer,” Mr. White commented, giving Peter a sympathetic smile. “I’m sure your Father will be happy to have you.”
Snorting Peter just shook his head, as he waited to be taken up and away.
An elevator dinged, and then Pepper Potts was walking towards them. When the tap tap of her sharp heels on the floor echoed, each step sounded like a beating drum in Peter’s heart.
The nervousness he’d been feeling from just pulling into the parking garage of the Stark Tower, increased tenfold. Being inside the building was one thing, but actually seeing Ms. Potts coming toward them was another. It just made the whole thing even more real.
Ms. Potts arrived, extending her hand to Mr. White and then, Peter.
“Hello, Mr. White, Peter. I’m sorry for the delay, but if you’d follow me, Tony is waiting for you up in the penthouse.”
Peter didn’t say a word, just followed dutifully behind Mr. White and Ms. Potts, waiting as Ms. Potts used her fingerprints to gain access to the elevator she'd come out from, tucked away at the very end of the elevator line.
“This one is the only one that goes up to the penthouse,” Pepper commented, as they filed in. “It's a special entrance only, Tony uses biometrics to keep it locked down.”
Peter purposely drowned out whatever else Ms. Potts and Mr. White talked about. His heart was already going a mile a minute, he thought for sure it looked like one of those cartoon hearts pounding out of his chest.
When the elevator dinged, Ms. Potts and Mr. White exited, but Peter did not, unable to get his legs to move.
“Peter,” Mr. White started, taking a step back into the elevator. “I know you’re nervous, but everything will be okay. I'll stay with you the entire time until you feel comfortable and safe.”
“If I may,” Ms. Potts said, taking a few steps back into the elevator. “I know we just met, Peter, but Tony is just down the hall and so very excited to finally meet you."
She was wrong, of course, Tony Stark was not excited to meet him. If he was excited to meet him, he would have met him at some point in his 14 years of life. Not now, not only after he had nowhere else in the world to go. Now he’s just stuck with him, unable to pretend Peter didn't exist, as he'd done since the day he was born.
He must have looked a little upset because Mr. White gave him a very gentle smile. “It’s okay if you’re nervous, Peter. You can take as long as you need but we do need to meet with Mr. Stark."
Finally gathering the courage, Peter nodded and walked from the elevator, being led by the two adults down a long hallway. They stopped in front of a closed door, Ms. Potts knocked twice before pushing the door open.
Sitting at a small table was the one and only, Tony Stark.
Their eyes met instantly and Peter lost the ability to breathe properly. It wasn’t as if he’d never seen Tony Stark on TV before, but this was different. This was not Iron Man flying around fighting bad guys, this wasn’t smarmy, grinning Tony Stark mouthing off to reports at a press conference. This wasn't the larger than life presence that loomed over New York, a protector, a genius, an inventor.
This was Tony Stark, Peter's biological father.
Mr. Stark stood so fast, his chair nearly toppled over. “Oh,” was all he managed before attempting to walk over. Peter’s gut reaction was to back away, moving slightly behind Mr. White, hiding before Mr. Stark could get to him.
When Mr. Stark saw the reaction, he stopped. “Sorry, sorry.”
“Peter’s just a little nervous,” Mr. White said, putting his hand on Peter’s shoulder and directing him to one of the empty chairs across from Mr. Stark. "Why don't we take a seat instead?"
Nodding, Mr. Stark turned to take a seat, Ms. Potts sitting on one side, a man Peter didn't recognize sitting on the other.
Mr. Stark kept staring at him, eyes boring into him and all Peter could do was try and act like he didn’t notice.
“Well, my name is Lionel Lewin, I'll be representing Mr. Stark in this matter,” the man Peter didn't know said after clearing his throat. “Let's get straight to business, shall we? I understand a paternity test was done when Mr. Parker was born, correct?”
Mr. Lewin didn't leave any room for introductions, or objections, barreling straight into the meeting, like a man on a mission.
“Yes,” Mr. White answered, sternly. "We've provided Mr. Stark with all the necessary paperwork, including the birth certificate that bears his name. I can assure you diligence was done in this case."
“I understand, Mr. White," Mr. Lewin continued. "Since the DNA test was not done in the presence of myself or Mr. Stark, we're requiring one to be taken here, with us as witnesses."
“I can assure you,” Mr. White pressed, his tone shifting from polite to annoyed with each word. “The results of the test were correct, Mr. Lewin."
Peter's face burned with embarrassment over the whole thing. He hated the attention from Mr. Stark, his eyes still locked onto Peter.
“We believe you,” Mr. Stark finally spoke, but his eyes still hadn’t left Peter’s face. “But you have to understand just a little, Mr. White. I've had people claiming to be my heir in the past. I have to take some precautions.”
“We can do it today,” Mr. Lewin continued. “We are equipped and the results will be ready within fifteen minutes. After that, we can discuss Mr. Parker’s stay here at the Tower.”
“I’m sorry,” Mr. White said, not sounding sorry at all. “Discuss Peter’s stay at the Tower? There is no discussion, this is where Peter is going to stay. When we reached out to you, Mr. Stark, you agreed to take custody of Peter. It was not conditional on any additional DNA tests. Unless you give up your parental rights, this is Peter’s new home.”
“Of course, Peter will be welcome here at the Tower,” Ms. Pott cut in, voice very soft but commanding at the same time, it reminded Peter of when Aunt May would get mad at Uncle Ben. “We aren’t trying to make this difficult, not at all but to give us a piece of mind, we’d greatly appreciate taking the DNA test here.”
Mr. Stark was still staring at Peter and it took every ounce of strength he had, not to yell at the man. Because of course, he would be trying to get out of this already. Maybe this was always his plan, get Peter here, fake a DNA test showing he wasn't his father, and wash his hands of Peter forever.
And as much as Peter sort of wanted that outcome, he wasn’t going to let Tony Stark discard him so easily.
“I’ll do it,” Peter said, speaking over Mr. Lewin who had started talking again. The adults all looked at him, curiously, as if they'd forgotten Peter was even in the room with them.
“It is up to you, Peter,” Mr. White said to him. "But you are under no obligation to follow through with the request."
Nodding, Peter looked straight back at Mr. Stark, their eyes meeting for the first time. “I'll do it," he repeated, voice cracking only a little.
“Thank you,” Mr. Stark said and for a second Peter thought he was being genuine about it, but it only lasted a second. “I can bring in one of our nurses right now, you don’t even have to leave the room.”
Looking away, Mr. Stark grabbed his phone, typing something in, and a few awkwardly silent moments later, there was a knock on the door, and a woman pushing a small cart came in. Introducing herself as Sally, she came over to sit beside Peter.
“Don’t worry sweetheart,” she said, laying out her few items on the table. “I promise this is completely painless.”
She reminded Peter of Aunt May in such a strong way, he had to fight the tears that sprung to his eyes. The gentle tone of her voice, the careful and precise movements she made with her medical equipment. He’d seen Aunt May in her “nurse mode” several times before and sitting there, despite all the trepidation, he felt a rush of the same care and love he’d felt with her.
Despite the feel of several eyes on him, he kept his attention on Sally, watching as she finished putting on her gloves and unwrapped the cotton swab.
“Alright, Peter, please open your mouth wide for me. I’m going to gently swab the right side of your mouth, along your cheek. I’ll be moving it up and down, just a few times and then we’re done.”
Shallow roughly, Peter nodded, opening his mouth wide and allowing her to press the swab against the inside of his cheek. Closing his eyes, he tried to breathe normally, to tame his heart back down.
“There we go,” Sally said as she finished. “Easy peasy.”
She put the swab in a small vile. “Model patient, thank you, Peter. Now, it’ll just be a minute before we’re ready to compare the results.”
Turning away, Sally did something on a tablet she’d brought with her and Peter went back to staring only at his hands. The silence in the room was overwhelming and Mr. Stark was still staring at Peter like he wanted to say something.
“When we’re finished,” Ms. Potts broke the silence. “We can show you to your room, Peter. I understand you have some items you’ve brought with you, but whatever you need, we can purchase.”
“Peter’s items are in my car,” Mr. White answered for him. Peter was glad the man seemed to understand why Peter was silent. It wasn’t that he couldn’t answer, he just didn’t want to.
Everything was happening so ridiculously fast, Uncle Ben and Aunt May only passed away 10 days ago, which felt like a whole lifetime ago to Peter.
Without a guardian available immediately, he was placed in a group home, separated from his things and his friends. They let him bring a small backpack of items, but the rest were boxed up by strangers.
All Peter wanted to do was scream and cry, tell the universe off for taking away the last of his family. But he couldn't, he hadn’t had a second to himself to take all of it in. And now, here he was, being delivered to Mr. Stark’s doorstep.
“His Aunt and Uncle’s items are currently in storage as we deal with their estate. Peter can retrieve those items soon. Some of his essential items are with me, including some of his schoolwork. I’ve been assured that Peter can continue going to Midtown, correct?”
“Correct,” Mr. Stark answered. “Everything will be arranged.”
Ms. Potts cleared her throat politely. “I know this is a tough question, but we weren't made aware of any plans for Mr. and Mrs. Parker’s funeral and services. We want to make sure Peter can attend and provide whatever is needed, expenses included.”
The words stung Peter, making him flinch in his seat, biting down on his lip to avoid letting the sob out of his throat.
“Everything has been taken care of, Mr. and Mrs. Parker already had a service the previous week,” Mr. White answered. The services were a blur to Peter, too many people crying, too many people touching his shoulder, giving him hugs, telling him how sorry they were for his loss. If it hadn’t been for Ned and his parents, Peter wasn’t sure what he would have done.
“If you need anything,” Mr. Stark said Peter knew he was talking to him but refused to look up. “Please don’t hesitate to ask, money is no object. I can provide you with anything.”
Snorting, Peter hastily whipped his eyes with the back of his hand, because of course Mr. Stark was just throwing money at the problem. If he really wanted to provide for Peter, he would have shown up at the funerals, hell, he would have gone and picked Peter up from the home, not allowing him to stay there for 10 full days before Peter was allowed to come to visit his ivory tower.
When Peter didn’t say anything in response, Mr. White continued speaking for him. “I’ll let you know.”
The DNA results were ready a second later, Sally turned in her chair, holding up the tablet. “It’s a match,” she said firmly. Ms. Potts and Mr. Stark both smiled, but their lawyer did not, instead, he pushed a folder across the table.
“Thank you, Sally,” Ms. Potts responded and it seemed like that was her cue to leave the room, she pushed the cart past Peter, giving him a warm smile before disappearing back out the door.
Mr. White picked up the file, opened it, and then closed it, his eyebrows raised. “I’m not sure you understand what’s happening here, Mr. Stark. This is not a negotiation, you have two choices right now, you either accept guardianship of your son, Peter or you give up your parental rights and Peter enters foster care. We've already provided you with an additional DNA test which is more than we had to do, there is no reason for myself or Peter, quite frankly, to sign any NDA or other documents.”
“I don’t want to give up parental rights,” Mr. Stark started, seemingly flustered. Peter had never seen the man look like this before, even when he was telling the world he was Iron Man, he didn’t look like this. “The NDA is for Peter’s safety, Mr. White. If news got out that I had a son, he would be a target for all sorts of bad things. I just want to keep him safe, which means requiring NDAs and limiting the knowledge of Peter’s existence. There’s nothing in there that Peter has to sign, we just want you to stay as safe as possible. Using the last name Parker and not publicly discussing our relationship, that’s all it means.”
Peter finally looked up at Mr. Stark. Looking into his father’s eyes, he almost had to laugh, he never realized before how similar they were to his own. He always wanted to look like someone, he sort of looked like his Mom, but he was never related to his dad, aunt, or uncle.
But now that he had someone right there, looking almost exactly like him, he didn’t want it at all.
“It’s fine,” Peter jumped in, looking away from Mr. Stark. “I don’t mind any of this.”
“Peter,” Ms. Potts said, gently and full of more care than Mr. Stark’s tone. “I think we’re starting to get off on the wrong foot. We’re both very happy to have you here, Peter and we want you to have a normal life again.”
“Yeah,” Mr. Stark echoed but didn’t continue.
Mr. White pushed the folder back to Mr. Stark’s lawyers. “Then I don’t think we have anything else we need to do. Now, before I leave Peter in your care, I need to check to make sure he has a proper place to sleep. I’m giving you a lot of grace, Mr. Stark, because of your public image, but I still need to verify he’s going to be safe.”
“Of course he is,” Mr. Stark actually looked a little upset at the statement. “That’s my main goal, I just want him to be safe, happy, and to have a normal life.”
Mr. Lewin left them before they went up to the penthouse, much to Peter’s relief. Instead Mr. Stark and Ms. Potts gave them a brief tour of the floor. If things had been different, Peter would have been amazed at the property, especially the brief look into Mr. Stark’s lab but now he just dragged his feet along. Everything looked so expensive and shiny, far beyond what Peter ever had or needed in his life. The space looked more like a museum than a home.
When they arrived at Peter’s room, he had to hide a little of his awe. The room was large and decorated, looking like someone else had already been living there. There was even a small seating area, that was the size of Peter’s entire bedroom back in Queens.
“We can change anything,” Mr. Stark said from the door frame, only having taken one single step in. “Wall colors, furniture… whatever you like, kid. Money is no option, clearly.”
“It’s fine,” Peter answered, walking over to a closed door he assumed was the closet. However, when he opened it, he saw a large bathroom complete with a walk in shower and jetted tub. He walked away, shutting the door behind him, and stood awkwardly beside the bed.
Mr. White had been walking around the room, eyeing things that seemed inconsequential. “Do you mind,” he said, coming over to Peter. “If I speak with Peter alone before I leave?”
“Of course, we’ll just be in the living room,” Mr. Stark said, turning tail and leaving with Ms. Potts smiling before going too. Once they left, the door shut behind them, Peter sat down heavily on the bed, and Mr. White followed suit.
“I know this isn’t ideal for you right now, Peter,” Mr. White started. “Aside from the lawyer nonsense, I don’t have any reason to believe that this is a bad place for you to be. But you have my card with you, if you ever feel like you need to leave, or if something happens, please reach out to me. I just want to make sure that you’re comfortable with me leaving you right now.”
Peter nodded. “Yeah, uh this is fine. Thank you, Mr. White, for all of your help.”
“Of course, Peter. I’m sorry we had to meet like this.”
Mr. White left a moment later, leaving the door open just a bit. He could hear the man walking down the hallway. The penthouse was so unnervingly quiet, so unlike his home. He could always hear Ben talking, or May singing and when the apartment itself was quiet, there were always the neighbors and the city of Queens filling in the silence.
A knock on the door had him turning to see Mr. Stark standing in the doorway. “I realized we hadn’t really had a chance to uh, say hi yet.”
Walking over to Peter, he extended his hand. “Hi, I’m your Dad. You can uh, call me whatever you want to, honestly. And uh, it’s great that you’re here, Peter. And I’m sorry about your aunt and uncle and your parents.”
“Thank you,” Peter offered automatically. “Mr. Stark,” he added, not really knowing how he wanted to play this. The man looked deflated for a second, but then his posture straightened.
“Alright, then, well, I know it’s been a long day for you. Happy’s bringing up your bags now, so you can start getting settled in. We’ll have takeout tonight, okay? Anything you want.”
“I’m not really hungry,” Peter offered. “I just feel tired. Can I uh, stay here?”
Disappointed flashed over Mr. Stark’s features for a second, before he nodded his head. His hand came down to Peter’s knee, patting it awkwardly for a moment before pulling it back. “Sure, of course. If you need anything, Pep and I will be in the living room area. Just come and get us? I’ve got an AI in the building, but I haven’t properly set you up with her yet. When I do, you should just be able to ask FRIDAY for anything you need and she’ll help.”
The thought of an ever present AI excited him and made him a little nervous. “Uh, does the AI spy on me?”
“No, nothing like that. There are cameras available here but they only record when there’s an emergency. She’s just kind of… there, you know? I’ll explain more about it later, okay?”
“Yeah, sure that’s fine, Mr. Stark.” Peter faked a yawn, hoping it was convincing enough for Mr. Stark to finally leave him alone.
It worked, Mr. Stark stood up, nodding his head. “Well, uh, I’ll let you get some rest. I’m uh, I’m happy you’re here, Peter. And I promise that things will be normal.”
Mr. Stark left the room leaving Peter alone for the first time in a very long time. Kicking off his shoes, he crawled up the unfamiliar bed, curled up into a small ball, and cried.
-
“Well, that could have gone better,” Tony mused, walking back into the living room, where Pepper was waiting for him, two wine glasses in her hands.
She laughed, handing Tony his glass when he came over to sit next to her. “I knew having Lewin there was a mistake. He doesn’t know how to come across as anything but aggressive.”
Nodding, Tony took a sip of his wine. Truthfully, he would have been fine without the lawyer there as well, but a part of him had to be sure of Peter’s parentage. He’d had his fair share of people claiming Tony was the father of their child, or in some cases, one of Tony’s long lost siblings. There was no way he could risk his company without undeniable proof.
Not that he needed any the second he saw Peter Parker walk into the conference room. The kid was a splitting image of him at that age. The only difference was the slight curl to Peter’s hair and the much sharper jaw, but there was no mistaking the mirror brown eyes that refused to look at his own. Peter spent much of the meeting quiet and not making eye contact, while all Tony could do was silently stare at his son, both happy he was there and angry he’d missed so much of the kid’s life.
He remembered Peter's mother the second he saw her name, Mary Fitzgerald. He'd met her in New York one summer, he was there doing his normal nonsense and she was working for, what he didn't know was, SHIELD at the time. They met at some benefit, bumping into each other as she was trying to escape some dude hitting on her. The attraction was immediate and mutual and Tony was never one to say no to a pretty face. They hooked up a few times until, they suddenly didn't.
Tony was never sure what happened, she was there one day, gone the next and he was too stupid to care. Much later, he found her name in a SHIELD file, sad to see she passed away with her husband six years after he's last seen her. He might have even seen Peter's name, or a reference to a child, but it didn't stay in his mind. Mary had apparently felt the same way about him, not bothering to tell Tony he had a son, or after she died, not even leaving Peter in her care after she passed. He went straight from Mary and her then husband, to her husband's brother and sister in law.
Did Mary think so little of him, that she’d rather give his son to people he wasn’t even related to, over letting him into Peter’s life.
“I don’t think Peter’s case worker liked us much either,” Tony responded. “I’m worried he’s not going to think we’re good enough to take care of him.” Mr. White hadn’t been rude, or mean, but he was definitely giving Tony the vibe that he didn’t want to leave Peter in his care. Tony knew he should be thankful someone was looking out for his kid, it was just hard to see the hesitation from both of them.
Pepper hummed, reaching over to place her glass on the table. “He’s just worried about Peter’s well being. And I’m sure once Peter settles in, things will be easier. He’s got a lot to adjust to, Tony. Losing his aunt and uncle, finding out his dad is Tony Stark, and being moved to a new unfamiliar place all in one week, it’s a lot to take in.”
“Yeah,” Tony agreed, drumming his fingers against his knee. “I want the best for him already, you know. I see how sad he looks and I just want to give him everything and anything to make that look go away.”
“Don’t go all in right away,” Pepper laughed. “You have a tendency to jump in without thinking it through. Let Peter adjust to life here first, then you can smother him with everything. He didn’t grow up like you, you know? He’s going to need a bit of an adjustment period before he can have the full Stark experience.”
“I can’t not get him things, Pep. I mean, he’s got to have clothes and other things. I’m not going to just let my kid walk around in those dirty shoes and clothes that don’t fit properly. I’ve missed thirteen years of birthdays and holidays, I have to make up for it somehow.”
Pepper breathed deeply, the same type of response she usually gave when Tony was going overboard. “I agree, but you have to take it easy with this. Peter’s just as new to this as you are. You’re going to spiral if you keep this up and if he’s anything like his father, Peter will spiral too. The poor kid looked terrified just to meet you, I can’t imagine how he feels being thrust into this new life.”
There had been a building panic in the last week, finding out he had a son, a teenager no less, who would now be living with him because all of his guardians passed away. A spiral that was sponsored by Howards, his less than stellar Dad, and just how terrible he made Tony’s life. There was a small part of him that thought the kid was better off in foster care, but that part was quickly squashed down. If he gave Peter up now, he was just like Howard, uncaring and unloving. He was determined to break the cycle, to be a good parent to Peter, no matter what the cost.
He’d just leaned up against Pepper’s side, when the elevator opened and Happy came out, holding two garbage bags. “Kid’s things,” he said, holding them both up as if he were light as a feather.
“That’s all?” Tony squawked, his heart aching knowing an entire 13 year old’s life was being held in two plastic bags before him.
“That’s what the social worker said. Want me to toss ‘um in the kid's room?”
“I’ll do it,” Tony said, getting up once more, and handing Pepper the wine. “Thanks, Hap.”
Peter had only been alone for 10, 15 minutes at the most, Tony wondered if it had been too long. He’d been secretly hoping Peter would have come out, maybe sat on the couch and talked with him, but Tony knew he was asking for a lot.
When he arrived at Peter’s door, he leaned up against it, pressing his ear as close as he could. The sounds coming from inside were obviously clear, Peter was crying. Tony could hear the sniffles and sobs.
He knew Peter wouldn’t be happy but… he didn’t think it would be this bad. Was Tony really terrible at being a father already? Bringing his hand up, he knocked on the door, clearing his throat before speaking. “Peter?”
The sniffling stopped, and there was a rustling sound like he was digging deeper under his covers. Tony continued. “I’ve got your things from Mr. White. I’m just going to uh, come in and drop them off?”
What Tony wanted to do was walk in and comfort the kid in there, but he just… he couldn’t. He didn’t even know how to do it. What could he even say to Peter to make any of this better for him? Was there anything he could say? Would he just make things worse?
What he settled for was slowly opening the door, peeking his head in to find Peter in bed, covered up to his chin. Not able to see his face, Tony had a feeling the kid didn’t want Tony to know he was crying. “Pete?” he tried again, but the kid didn’t stir.
Walking over he set the garbage bags down by the desk, already planning the things he’d buy Peter to fill the void of his room. Going to the bed, Tony leaned over, trying to peek at the kid’s face, but still couldn’t see it.
“I’m happy you’re here, Peter,” he said, hoping the kid was awake enough to hear him. “I promise, we’ll make things work, okay? Everything will be fine.”
Tony had never had a fatherly urge a day in his life. He had no idea how to be a parent, no idea how to handle a child, a teenager, a kid who had just lost his entire world. But he was struck with the urge to lean over and kiss the top of Peter’s head, a feeling he’d never felt before in his life.
But he wasn’t too sure how that would go over with the kid, currently burrowing himself away from Tony.
“Night kiddo,” he said before slipping out of the room.