#Titanium Nano Toothpick

[iron--spider]

you’re as good as it gets

“Whoever would have thought Peter would replace me?” Tony asks, peering over at Pepper as they set the table. “I guess I should have. I guess I should have seen it coming. I’m not as cool as I once was.”

 “I am going to record you,” Pepper says, glancing up as she sets the silverware down. “And then I am going to send the videos to Peter, whenever you do this.”

 “Good,” Tony says. “Then maybe he’ll see how much he’s hurting his old man—” Pepper starts coming at him with the dish towel, and Tony laughs, holding his hands up in surrender. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Sort of.”

 “This is what you wanted him to do, right?” she asks, bracing her hand on the chair and looking at him. “This Octavius guy, doing this with him gets Peter college credit?”

 “The class does,” Tony says, chewing on a toothpick. “The working with him thing is a whole different...thing.”

 “He’s just living his life,” Pepper says, and she’s looking at him sadly now, like she might get it. “Getting better after everything he’s gone through. You know he’s not actually replacing you, he’s just—”

 “No, I know,” Tony says, laughing a little bit. “I know. I’m just being dramatic. To irritate you.”

 “Mhm. Easily done.”

 Tony doesn’t know much about Otto Octavius. Well, he knows everything he learned after he heavily, heavily researched him when Peter started working with him in his lab on the weekends. But, he doesn’t know Octavius as a person, and he doesn’t hardly trust anybody with Peter, even people he trusts. Logically, this is a good thing. Peter’s preparing for college. He’s getting back into the groove of things after...all the bullshit. He was having a hard time with it, for a while. Being gone for five years. His life upended. Tony nearly dying in front of him and losing an arm as a result of the near death. So Tony knows this is good. The kid’s moving on.

 He’s moving on?

He’s moving...on. 

 Tony’s had a lot of people move on from him. He expects it. He expects every day for Pepper to up and leave, for Morgan to pack up her little pink Hello Kitty suitcase and disappear in the wind. Rhodey never picking up his calls again. Happy slamming the door in his face. All of them would probably beat the shit out of him if they knew he still thought that way, but it’s so ingrained in him that it’s hard to push it back.

 He knows it would piss Peter off too. So Tony never says anything to him about his own dumb shit or his worries or his occasional loneliness, despite his firecracker of a daughter who’s been dressing up in Spider-Man costumes lately. But Tony misses Peter. And feels a dumb tinge of jealousy knowing he’s learning and growing with some other asshole scientist mentor guy. Tony is supposed to be the only asshole scientist mentor guy in his life.

 His phone buzzes in his pocket.

 “Speak of the devil,” Tony says, opening up Peter’s message. 

 “See, there you go,” Pepper says, laying out napkins. “He wouldn’t be messaging you if he’d replaced you. He’s too polite for that.”

 The message is a photo—a billboard of Tony himself, the kind of shit that started cropping up everywhere after everyone found out what he did. Suited up, sans helmet, staring upwards with a look of determination and grit on his face, like some kind of stained glass church art. Peter is in the foreground, both eyebrows raised, and it’s captioned “TONY ARE YOU STALKING ME?”

 “What a nerd,” Tony says, full of fondness. 

 “Make sure he knows he’s coming for movie night tomorrow or Morgan will never forgive him,” Pepper says. 

 “Noted,” Tony says, crafting a reply.

 ~

 A couple days later Tony is falling asleep sitting up in the workshop, still analyzing the layout for the new bot he’s creating to accompany DUM-E and U. He’s seen Peter a couple times in the past week, but the kid looks more worn out than normal with every new day that passes. Tony had texted a bit with May, trying not to worry, but that’s practically his every day state of mind, especially when it comes to his kids. 

 His kids. Plural. Two. How long has he been thinking about Peter like that? One of his own. Since before the end of the world? During, while he was gone, when there were things Tony couldn’t change, when the world was so heavy that he had to remove himself from it? When his failure loomed in front of him like a crumbling shadow, the darkness drawing all the light away from him?

 Was it then? Or was it when he saw the kid on their newfound battlefield, like a memory of a lifetime past, an impossible miracle? Talking and talking and talking like he used to?

 Tony leans forward and braces his elbows on the table, digging his thumbs into his eyes, nearly poking his own fucking eye out with his new titanium alloy thumb. It’s been a while and he’s still not used to the new arm. How it looks, how it feels, what other people think. An eternal reminder, just like the arc reactor was. Once again, he’s marked.

 He’s about to call it a night when his phone starts ringing.

 Peter.

 It’s after midnight, and yeah, he’s gotten calls from Peter at all hours of the night, but usually, it’s when he’s in trouble. 

 Tony answers fast. “Hey buddy,” he says. “You okay?”

 Peter’s breath is coming fast, and he doesn’t say anything for a moment. 

 Tony sits up straighter, eyes intent. “Peter, what’s going on?” he asks. “Talk to me.”

 “I—I, I—I made a bad decision. I didn’t know. I didn’t—I didn’t know. Help me.”

 Tony nearly leaps to his feet. Help me. Not I need help. Just help me. “Where are you?” he asks. “What happened? Who did this, what’s going on?”

 “I’m in—I’m in the suit,” Peter says, and Tony doesn’t know if he’s ever heard him sound like this. Only in the moment he knew he was dying. Or when he thought Tony was.

 “I’ll track you, are you safe?” Tony asks, getting up and sweeping towards the exit, a tension headache spreading across his forehead. “Can you stay where you are?”

 “I’ll—I’ll stay close to where I am, it should be—should be okay, but I don’t know, I don’t know.” His voice breaks and he sucks in a few gasping breaths. “I can’t think. I can’t—help me, please, I messed up, I don’t know what to do.”

 “I’m coming, I’m on my way,” Tony says, trembling now, himself, trying to summon the kind of strength that whatever this is needs. “Stay on the line with me, Pete. I’ve got you, just stay there.” He grabs his earpiece on the way out, activating it.

 “Friday, track Peter and give me the fastest possible routes to get to him,” Tony says, starting up the stairs. 

 He hasn’t had a suit on in almost a year. He hasn’t felt strong enough, safe enough, and the others have been covering it. It, the royal It, everything that needed to be done. Tony did what he could and it wound up well, and after that, nobody’s needed Iron Man. 

 But Peter needs him now.

 ~

 Tony can barely get him to talk while he’s on his way over, and that terrifies Tony even more—just short, clipped answers, wavering breathing, and it sounds like a panic attack. But Peter doesn’t seem to hear him, when Tony tries to talk him through it. He’s faraway in his head, too. 

 Tony finally finds him in an unused tunnel in Harlem, and getting over there without drawing a crowd is more difficult than Tony would have liked. But Friday finds him the way in that Peter must have found, and it’s like dropping directly into a horror movie. Quiet, echoes, dripping. 

 Peter crying.

 He’s sitting there, against the wall, his mask balled up beside him. This place is dirty and abandoned, and he looks too bright and vibrant to be here. Even in the state he’s in.

 Tony lets the nanos crawl back into the housing unit and he rushes over to him, kneeling by his side. He glances up, briefly, to make sure no one is keeping him here, that this isn’t a trap, but he doesn’t see anything anywhere. He hopes Friday would alert him to anything like that.

 “Hey, hey, okay,” Tony says, one hand on Peter’s shoulder, the other tipping his chin up. “Here I am, okay? What happened? What’d you do? I’m sure whatever it is, not your fault, we can fix it. We can fix it, together, no problem, kid. You know how much shit I’ve messed up and thought was beyond repair? Plenty. I always fix it, and we’re gonna fix this too.”

 Peter’s eyes finally focus on him, red-rimmed, and he shakes his head. He shudders to his feet, bracing his hand on the wall behind him, and he nearly falls before Tony grabs him and steadies him.

 “Otto,” Peter says, sniffling. “Doctor Octavius. He, he, he—he’s a bad guy, Tony, he’s—I’ve been helping him invent things and working on his specs and I’ve been helping him with all this stuff for months and months and he’s using it to hurt people, to commit crimes. He’s got—an entire team of guys, and I didn’t even mean to find them but I found them, tonight, they’re all these costumed villains, they were—they were working with the Rhino, that big guy I put away last month—”

 “Yeah, I remember,” Tony says, still holding onto him.

 “The police thought he had people behind him, more—more powerful people, but tonight I went after these guys that had robbed a bank on 4th street and I webbed up one of them but the other got away and I followed him—but I realized he was leading me somewhere bigger, and there were—Tony, he was there, Otto, he was in charge—he’s using these—these arms, they look like octopus arms, and I, I—I’m the one that helped—I helped him, I helped him with those—with those specs—”

 He covers his mouth, shaking his head, and before Tony can think about hugging him he steps forward and buries his face in Tony’s shoulder. 

 Peter keeps talking, muffled. “He’s responsible—his group, these people, they’re responsible for so, so much—shit—countless robberies, kidnappings, that—that explosion, at that office building, that happened—that happened in July, that was them, Tony, and people died, and I���and I’ve been—working with him since June—”

 “Stop, stop, stop,” Tony whispers, holding onto him.

 Peter gasps, sounds like he’s gonna start choking, and he claws at Tony’s shoulders. “I should have—realized, I should have known, some—somehow, figured it out, realized, but he—he acted so, so normal, with me, and I thought he was—I thought he was doing something—good, but he’s—he’s not—”

 “And you’re sure—”

 “I’m sure,” Peter whispers, wounded. “Positive. And I—they were picking up and moving their—base and I was—freaking out too much to even—follow—keep track—”

 “Shh, relax,” Tony whispers, ruffling Peter’s hair. “Relax, breathe.”

 Peter stops talking, but his breathing is labored, and he’s holding on tight.

 “The guy that got away, that led you to all this, did he know you were following him? Did he know what you saw?”

 “Don’t think so,” Peter says. He shakes his head. “I should never have—even taken that course, with Otto, let alone started—working with him. I made a bad decision, a—a stupid decision. May is gonna be so disappointed in me. And I know...I know you don’t like him.”

 Tony scoffs, still rocking them back and forth, gently. “I didn’t not—listen, one, May can never be disappointed in you. Please. And me, I’m just—I’m just jealous. I wanna work with you, I wanna hoard you, and that’s selfish of me, whatever. That’s all. But fuck that guy, now I have a reason to hate him. We’re gonna take him down, yeah?” He pulls back, holding Peter by the shoulders. “Yeah?”

 Peter looks positively fucking miserable, but thankfully, uninjured. “I’ve been helping him, Tony,” he says, dejected. “With...God knows what. The arms, they’re—they were supposed to be for limb replacement, but he’s altered them, and they’re—they look dangerous. He was in charge, he was—with all these criminals, some I’ve seen before, some that have gotten away from me and he was—he was in charge.”

 “Listen,” Tony says, stepping a little closer. “I’ve been betrayed before. More than one time. Used for what I know, what I can do. That’s what happened here. Nothing else. You have not and will not ever hurt anybody or anything. You’re a fucking angel, kid, and this does not change that. We’re gonna take care of this. You could do it without me, because you can do anything, but I’m gonna help you every step of the way.”

 Peter heaves a sigh, the kind of motion that shows he’s still horrified and put-upon by all this, but relieved that he’s not handling it alone. Tony knows how that is. It’s always easier to have backup, especially when things are personal. They both take things to heart.

 Peter moves in and hugs him again. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. 

 “Nope,” Tony says, automatically, hugging him back. “No reason to be sorry. My least favorite phrase from you.”

 “I’m just sorry for everything,” Peter says, voice breaking again. There’s a lot more behind that one, and Tony sighs, rubbing his back.

 “Don’t be,” he says. “You’re doing everything right. The world just sucks and good people get taken advantage of. And you’re as good as it gets.”

 “But we’re gonna fix it,” Peter says, tentatively, like he’s hoping to believe it.

 “Yes,” Tony says, firmly. “We’re gonna fix it.”