Tony stares at the gapping hole in the Spider-Man mask, poking his fingers through it. He hates thinking about the fight that Peter had gone through, with a man that had planned on making it his last.

He feels a shiver go up his spine and a lump forms in his throat.

He feels sick.

He hadn't had the time to fix the suit in weeks. He'd been busy- calling around and sending the best and most skilled people to find this Dagger guy but they'd yet to accomplish finding him.

It was weird. They had his full name and yet there was no record of the man even existing. Tony tried to help- he had FRIDAY go through every name in New York, which may or may not have been slightly illegal. (He got yelled at for it.)

So he was told to wait. To not intervene.

He'd also been focused on the kid and trying to keep him feeling... closer to ok.

It's not fair. He's gone through too much- especially for someone his age. There are times where he wishes he could keep him inside, away from harm forever.

He can't do that though. It would be wrong.

But he feels so out of place, being so... useless.

At least that gives him time to fix the suit, he thinks.

Though he has other easier, technological ways of fixing the suit, the tech inside hadn't been ruptured and the rips weren't too big so he found himself sewing it together himself.

His mom had taught him how to, just like a lot of other things he continues to use in his life now.
(He has a habit of ripping his clothing when he's in the lab. Also, he's a t-shirt hoarder. He has an attachment to his old band shirts, no matter how worn they are. Pep hates it)

Silently, he pulls at the thread and watches as the frayed edges of the suit mend.

They'd been doing so well.

Peter was healing. He was adjusting.

He was becoming happier.

Tony huffed frustratedly, scrubbing his free hand over his face.

Fuck this guy. Fuck him.

He feels awful. Peter doesn't know what to do with himself around the tower. He looks... sick.

Some days he is sick with grief.

Tony hasn't pushed him to go to school- especially because Peter had tried to multiple times and it only ended in a hysteric phone call by lunch time. He was unwell- he couldn't do school right now.

That was the least of their worries though. Tony had already had a meeting with the principal about it (minus the whole... murder part) and they both agreed to let him take off some time. Happy's been picking up the week's workload and a lot of the time, that's what keeps him busy. Keeps him distracted.

Tony can't decide if distraction is a good or bad thing. He can't force Peter to talk about this shit and he can't keep it bottled up; but the kid doesn't want a therapist, he just wants this guy caught.

So that's where Tony is. If getting this guy will help at all, that's what he'll do. Hell, he'd kill him if that would fix their problems.

"Sir."

His hand pauses as Tony recognises the smooth, robotic voice.

"Yeah FRI."

"Peter is awake."

He yanks the needle through one last time and pulls at the thread, snapping it apart.

~~~~~~~~~~Peter's pov~~~~~~~~~

Peter's curled up on the couch when Tony finds him, room dim and tv light flickering in his face. The man looks at him sadly and he can't blame him because he probably looks as awful as he feels.

He's been sick. Not really cold sick but from the emotional rollar coaster he's been dragged through. He'd been an emotional mess and ended up dry heaving over the toilet most nights.

'Can't get sick,' he'd said, voice cracking.

Sympathetically, Tony had explained that yes, he can get sick because grief fucks with the immune system and leaves room for infection.

Which was stupid.

Peter shouldn't be sick.

But he is.

A hand pats his head softly, "Hey kiddie."

He's snapped out of his frustrated trance and he watches as Tony makes a beeline towards the kitchen.

"Hey."

They both grimace at his gravely voice.

"How are you feeling?"

"Shitty."

He hums. "You want breakfast?"

"...It's like, 4 in the morning."

"Is it?" He blinks and glances at the clock. "Ah. It is. You didn't eat dinner though. You fell asleep early and I didn't want to wake you up. If you're hungry I'll..."

His mouth twitches upwards a bit. Despite not being very hungry, he agrees.
"Sure. Thanks."

Eyes half lidded, he watches as his-... (stop it Peter)

He watches as Tony cracks eggs into a pan.

The second they begin to sizzle, Tessa, previously asleep at Peter's feet, shoots up and gallops towards the food. She sits at his feet near the stove and pants excitedly.

As the room becomes quiet again, he hears Tony's foot tap against the ground anxiously and he can't stop the guilt that constricts his lungs.

He's awful at this- at being someone's kid.

He can't even keep a conversation with the guy that does everything for him.

He's not supposed to be weak- he's supposed to be a Stark now.

Not a Parker.

Not-

"Hey Pete, how long have you been up?"

Peter finds himself reluctant to answer so he looks the other way, avoiding eye contact.
"Dunno."

He does know.

He couldn't sleep.

Well, he's fallen asleep he just hasn't stayed asleep for more than a few hours the past few days.

"Are... are you ok?"

No.

"Yeah."

The man tilts his head to look in his eyes.
"Peter."

He squeezes his eyes shut, hating himself a little more for being so incapable of keeping things secret.

"I," he starts, voice cracking. "This is so stupid- I'm... worried about the adoption."

The fact that he doesn't speak scares Peter shitless. (He's going to be mad Peter you're so ungrateful-)

"I'm sorry I don't mean to be- I just- ...I miss her. I miss May. And I miss Ben and I don't want to get rid of them. I don't think I'm ready to be a Stark. Please- please don't be mad." He squeezes his eyes shut, ducking his head.

"Kiddie, how long was this bothering you?"

Peter grimaces. He doesn't think he should answer that.

Tony sighs, rubbing his hand across his forehead, "We should've talked about this more that's- completely my fault."

"I wasn't exactly making it easy," he says quietly. He'd made it very clear the adoption was a touchy subject in the beginning.

"That's ok though. I was never planning on taking that away from you. You're a Parker. You'll always be a Parker and sure, you're my kid now too but we never needed a name to prove that, did we?"

He's got such a soft, loving expression on his face and it's as if Peter's heart shatters. He can't help but feel knots in his stomach because anyone who has ever looked at him like that has died but it's so refreshing to see sometimes and deep down, it makes him happier to have someone like Tony.

Now though, he feels a bit silly for worrying about something so minuscule, so he ducks his head again.

Tony gives a quiet huff of adoration before ruffling his hair.
"No one's been giving you trouble with it, have they?"

He thinks back to Flash, who is an absolute, blabbering idiot. He'd taken the time to print out paparazzi pictures a while back and taped them to a number of lockers around the school just to screw with him.

He'd inevitably cornered Peter to boast about his work, solely looking for a reaction and for him to hopefully confirm his 'conspiracy theory that Peter's actually homeless and not living with The Tony Stark.' He doesn't think he'd care as much if it wasn't the pictures that had been such an invasion of privacy. He was grieving and Tony was trying to help in any way he could. Most of the pictures consisted of the man just getting Peter out of the tower. Some of the photos were at restaurants and ice cream parlours, some were just at the park where they thought no one went but the thing all of them had in common was his radiating heartbreak and the comforting hand that was resting on his shoulder.

This was just so shitty. It was a private moment.

It wasn't their business-!

"Not really," he says, "Doesn't really matter."

"Of course it matters," There's a beat of silence and a painful look on Tony's face.
"I'm sorry, kid."

He tilts his head,
"Why?"

"I've put off the press conference for so long."

The boy smiles awkwardly, "I mean... I'd say we've been pretty busy."

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Besides," he says, "We don't even need a press conference. People have seen the pictures. They've seen Happy pick me up every day and half the people at my school don't believe it anyway, so we don't really need to say anything."

Tony laughs, "Well, I'd like to yell at them a bit and tell them to leave us the fuck alone."

"Like that'd ever happen."

"I'd like to at least try. Wait, you think I could tweet it?"

Peter rolls his eyes and lets the back of his head hit the couch, trying not to feel embarrassed at the idea of his father figure tweeting his every thought.

"Ugh."

"What? I'd be hilarious on Twitter!"

"Tony."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Peter stares down at the map on his phone, glowing brightly in his dark room.

He feels like he's entranced in it.

He can't do this. He shouldn't. Tony'll be pissed if he finds out.

"Where is he?"

Karen speaks carefully. "Mr. Stark has connected every one of his AIs to all security cameras in a specific radius, including myself. I have spotted him just a few minutes away at Cortlandt Alley. Would you like me to tell Mr. Stark?"

He hesitates.
Tony said he'd help.

But this is Peter's mission. Peter's aunt.
He killed her.

"No."

"...What about the others? I'm sure they'd love to be of assistance, Peter. They're grown quite fond of you."

Peter hops off his bed, accidentally waking Tessa. Her ears perk up at the sudden movement, eyes half-lidded.

Hot with anger before, he softens. He pats her head and almost backs down when she looks at him with sad eyes. Though, seconds later he squeezes his eyes shut and forces himself toward the window.

A high pitched whine escapes her throat.

"It's fine Tess," he says. "I'll be right back."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A puff of smoke expands from Dagger's mouth.

God, that's still a stupid name.

He watches as the man eyes him carefully, looking as if he was just relaxing on the top of a garbage can and part of him knows it's a trap.

Part of him also doesn't give a shit anymore.

He grins and flicks it to the ground, crushing the butt with his boot. Peter raises a brow,

"That's littering."

"Hello Parker."

His nose wrinkles with disgust beneath the mask, feeling his chest bubble with anger. He's getting really tired of that feeling.

The man only gets a chance to twitch his fingers towards his gun when Peter shoots a web in his direction, and there's a loud, satisfying smack of his knuckles against the brick wall as his weapon clatters onto the floor.

Though, he fails to see the small grey sphere in his other hand.

Peter, you goddamn idiot.

So much for his sixth- freaking- sense.

He doesn't get the opportunity to react before it's thrown in his direction, and he almost thinks this is the end. That was a bomb and the guy had just managed to kill him in a 10 second fight.

Then it begins to spew thick layers of smoke all around him. He stares at it in confusion, waving his hand through it before it clicks.

He can't see-

A fist plows through the smoke and comes in contact with his nose.

Peter shouts in pain and stumbles back, cupping his hands over his nose. His eyes water and his heart races and he can't fucking see-

He twirls around unsteadily, searching for the villain. He can feel his heart beating in his throat, the panic leaving him winded.

"Hey," he shouts. "Hey!"

He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to get his breathing under control before he gets a call from Tony. He sucks in a breath and blows it out, focusing on the sounds around him and allowing his senses to take control.

There's the echoing of footsteps and a pinch at the back of his neck.

He catches the next fist.
He yanks Dagger closer to him and elbows the side of his head with a loud crack. He stumbles and instead of begging for Peter to spare his life like he'd hoped he would, he started to laugh maniacally.

It just makes his blood boil more.

He punches again and again, blind with rage. Tony had been trying to teach him not to zone out when fighting but he couldn't seem to break the habit. As of right now though, it didn't seem to be a problem.

Dagger dodges one of his punches and Peter's fist still swings with momentum and he whirls around, panting like a bull in a ring. He'd managed to disappear in the smoke again, and without making himself visible, he sweeps a foot beneath the hero.

Back against the ground, wind knocked out of him once again, he blindly shoots out a web. It luckily attaches to Dagger's head and Peter pulls with as much force as he can manage, heaving himself up to his feet while forcing Dagger down and smacking his head against the ground.

He grabs him by the collar of his shirt while he's still dazed but he's still laughing- laughing as if his face wasn't busted and bleeding.

Peter pushes him against the cement wall, hard enough for it to crack and dent inward around his body. Chunks of it plummets to the ground at their feet.

Dagger glances down and his smile somehow widens.

Peter follows his gaze.

Another stupid fucking smoke bomb in his hand.

Except this one actually exploded and the smoke shoots up in his face- into his lungs, suffocating him.

He lets him go and coughs, hunching over.

He tries to fight it and looks up again, expecting to see the man running in his direction with a weapon that would bring Peter to his demise, but he's already gone.

Shit.

"No," he wheezes. He pulls up his mask halfway to continue the coughing fit until he finally sucks in a breath.

He let him go. He-

Peter begins to pace the alley, the human- sized dent in the side of the wall taunting him.

"Fuck," he mutters, pulling at his hair. "Fuck!"

"Peter," Karen's voice urgently. "I have been trying to get your attention. You are in a state of extreme distress it is protocol to call Mr-"

"Don't," he rasps. "I'm- I'm going home now."

He cries on the way home. He cries in his bed, curled up in the duvet sheets with his dog. She licks his forehead lightly before resting her head on his shoulder.

He couldn't sleep off the overwhelming feeling of defeat and the steady, never-ending flow of tears, no matter how hard he tried. He's still crying when he gets up to get a drink of water, the 2:20AM shining bright on his alarm clock.

He wipes a path of tears away with his palm and sniffs.

"Kid?"

He's too drained to hide anything. He knows Tony can see the tears, glistening off the dim oven light anyway.

He's lucky its dark enough to hide the state of his nose.

He contemplates speaking but then his breath hitches.

"Pete."

That's all it takes for the dam to break probably for the thousandth time in the past year. Maybe even in the past few weeks. His chest stutters as his head drops like his strings have been cut.

Tony opens his arms, welcoming a hug and Peter steps forward to rest his head on his sternum.
Arms tighten around him.

"Why couldn't I just save her," he cries. His lungs burn and he doesn't know if it's from the overwhelming feeling of grief or the smoke bomb that'd blown up in his face. "Why couldn't I-"

Tony doesn't say a word. He just lets Peter talk his own way through it and pulls him closer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Peter wishes everything would go back to normal.

Though his first thought of normal would be before May died, somehow, he thinks things got pretty normal for a while before he found out she was killed because of him.

Before then, Tony wasn't focusing on finding her murderer. He was building cool things and showing Peter and they'd be in the lab for hours. Their nights consisted of movies or homework-help or even just sitting on the couch talking. He misses that.

When the avengers came in, normal changed but it was still nice. Everything was kind of the same, but with more people. Steve could help with history, and Nat with English. Everything was more fun with them.

Now, they're extra nice to him and their expressions remain gentle. They obviously know, despite Peter never saying anything himself. Its understandable. He couldn't have just kept this a secret.

They're all up late a lot searching through security cameras and on phonecalls with shield and more often than not, up with Peter purely because he couldn't get to sleep.

Peter feels awful for ruining their sleep schedules, especially Tony and Pepper's, but they all help make things a little easier. 

Peter tries to help them in return by having Karen keep watch and the majority of the time he goes out as spider-man, it's to find Dagger. He hasn't had any luck since the fight but maybe if he keeps trying-

He's shut down almost immediately.

"I want you to leave it alone," Tony says. "Just... try to focus on yourself for a bit and rest, ok? Please?"

He reluctantly agrees and when there's no one in sight, he storms into his room and allows the tears of frustration to pour from his eyes.

It's late when he slips the mask back on his face.

For the first time in a while, it's not to patrol. He just lays on his back and stares up at the ceiling. Sometimes, the mask is just comforting to wear.

"Why does everyone keep telling me to rest," he sniffs, breath hitching. "It's all I do- I don't know what else to do."

"Mental rest Peter," Karen says softly, "Rest doesn't mean isolate yourself to your bed. You're supposed to do things that make you feel better. Surround yourself with the people you love."

"...Oh."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tony's reading a parenting book for the hundredth time when Pep's nail taps the paper cover.

"Tony not everything is in that parenting book."

"Yeah I noticed," he says, "I thought if I read it again I might..."

Maybe he missed something. Maybe there's something in here that can help-

The book is pushed into his lap, his fiancé's beautiful face in the frame instead of the dull pages.

"We'll have to figure this one out together."

She's leaning forward to kiss his cheek when Tessa comes trotting out into the living room and hops up onto the couch next to them.

They're confused until Peter comes out a few moments later, looking a little nervous and sad.

Tony drops the parenting book behind the couch.

"Peter, hi," Pepper says softly.

"Hey could I-uh-...Is it ok if..."

Tony scoots to the side a little, patting the couch.

He's quick to accept the offer.

"Are you ok?"

He shrugs.

Pepper tilts her head,
"Is it something we can help with?"

He shakes his head.

Tony puts a hand on his shoulder, thumb circling the blade.
"Ok," he says.

If the others were here, they might've laughed at the scene, Peter squished between the two of them. Though, its comforting for all of them to be in each other's presence.

Peter presses the heel of his palm against his eye, doing his best to focus on the tv but he seems more relaxed than he's been in a while. Tony can see the redness under his eyes and when Pepper kisses his temple, a tear slips.

Despite everything, it's nice.

He throws an arm around their shoulders, keeping his favorite people close.

"This is nice," he says.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Unknown: Lets try this one more time