#this is super duper cringe now but it was well liked on twitter so

[sussustoogus]

black and grey

[faynia]

“You fell off my plane.”

“I-oh. Oh!” Peter grapples with the brick wall behind him and tries to haul himself upright. “Wait -Okay. Don’t- Just- No, no. No, you’ve got to-“

Somehow, and Peter isn’t sure how, but the Iron Man suit seems to radiate disapproval. Without moving. Is that why the faceplate  was designed like that? Because wow. That is super duper effective. Like 10/10. Well done. High roll for intimidation. Peter’s existence feels heavily disapproved of. It’s a lot to take in at that moment.

“It’s being taken care of.” Iron Man bends over and for a horrifying second Peter imagines the jaw plate unhinging  anaconda style ready to swallow him whole when it registers what he’s been told. “What?”

”Yeah.” The faceplate flips up and Peter flinches back. Giant snake. Don’t eat me. “You know most people who want my attention harass me on Twitter.”

“I did-“

“You hijacked a plane full of weapons,” Stark interrupts. “It’s flight path wasn’t registered with the FAA. It’s completely off the grid. Retroreflectors in place. Nobody knew about that plane taking off.”

Peter cringes. “I didn’t-“

“Nope. Try again.”

“You weren’t there!” Peter shouts, fighting his way onto unsteady legs. A wave of vertigo sweeps over him and almost sends him straight back to the ground, and would if he wasn’t hanging tight to the wall with all his might.

Stark’s face blanks and his voice goes alarmingly quiet. “Excuse me?”

“They were selling those weapons on the streets,” Peter snaps. His head pounds as he focuses on Mr. Stark’s face. “People were dying and nobody noticed!” Dizziness makes him wobble as he takes a step away from the wall. “Nobody ever notices! The police can’t handle it, the FBI only knows about the big deals, and the Avengers-” Peter snorts and it’s wet and gross and he’s pretty sure he started crying though he can’t remember when. “They don’t ever look out for the little people. That plane? Your plane? It was rigged to blow and you didn’t even know, did you? You never notice until it’s end of the world level stuff and you think that’s enough?”

“Kid-“ Stark takes a step toward him.

“No.” Peter shoves at him before he could get closer but the armor doesn’t even sway. It doesn’t even move and Peter’s fingers leave bloody smears across the pristine metal. “I fell. Off your plane, Mr. Stark. That is full of alien-tech that you guys just left on the streets, and it  had a bomb strapped to it. A bomb I just disabled, and you didn’t notice. You didn’t notice and I tried.” Peter’s wheezing, his chest tightening as he struggles to breathe through the tears clogging his throat. He wipes angrily at his face, ripping back his hood because what was the point? If Tony Stark found him once he’d find him again. And again. And again. And Peter doesn’t understand. He doesn’t understand why he was followed this time when he’s been running this beat for months now, trying to keep his neighborhood safe. All of New York safe and it’s just being thrown right in his face. “Why? Why now? Why do you care now?”

“Who do you think contacted the FBI?”

“What can the FBI do against people firing weapons that can vaporize you? They nearly sunk a ferry! Have you even- I can’t-“ Peter sags, back hitting the wall and head tipped back toward the blackened sky. Raindrops hit his upturned face and streak down his cheeks, mingling with tears before dripping to the ground. “I can’t do this alone,” he mumbles, “I’m just a kid. I can’t do this alone and nobody is helping me!”

He tries to shove past Stark but the man grabs him by the arm and it’s then he remembers the talons ripping through his suit into his chest and his knees buckle as a strangled yelp echoes up and out of the alley. For a wild moment, he thinks someone else is being hurt. It takes him a second to realize the noise  had come from him.

“Easy. You’re bleeding.”

“No thanks to you.”

Stark rolled his eyes and just kept staring at the sky like it might hold some answers, but Peter already knows it doesn’t. It never does. This is clearly the timeline God abandoned, literally even, Thor hasn’t been seen on Earth in years. So it’s hardly a surprise when the man’s heavy gaze comes back down and lands on Peter as if he’s a complicated problem to solve.

“Yeah. No. This isn’t working. You’re coming back with me.”

Peter yanks his arm away. Too fast. Too fast. And gapes. “What?!”

“You’re injured,” Stark points out. “Probably a concussion and don’t think I didn’t notice the way you’re favoring your ribs, bud.” Peter squirms under his knowing look. It’s not fair he can do that. Read him like that. They don’t even know each other. Stark literally knows nothing about him. “Unless you want to go to a hospital?” Peter sullenly shakes his head. “Thought not. So let’s take a look at your options, hm? One. I leave you here. You try to do your swinging thing home and end up dead on a rooftop. Two. You get your ass to a hospital and get outed to the government. Or Three. You let me take you back to the Tower. Patch you up and then have a fun little chat about how we ended up in this position.”

“Can I vote none of the above?” Peter asks.

“Not up for debate.” Stark crosses his arms and stares him down. “I’m a very busy person. Clock’s ticking. What’s it going to be, kid?”

Peter bows his head and clenches his hands. “I’ll go with you.”