With Steve, Rhodey, and Tony all sharing the tower's penthouse, ever since The Vulture Incident, it feels almost too much like how it used to be. Especially with Peter visiting.

It's only been one week since Peter was released from the Tower's Hospital, and since Peter's visit over to the tower for the first time since the secret was revealed.

It was nice and all, and Tony's happy that at least he's still allowed to see Peter and be around Peter, but the difference between now and what it should've been, hurts.

Peter's coming over again today, now that it's a Friday, for what should be a fun weekend filled with things to do and avoidance of the heavy topics. All Tony wants to do is hang out with his kid and build things and train and watch movies.

"You're overthinking. I can hear your brain gears spinning from here," Rhodey says, rolling his eyes. He's leaning against the kitchen counter, a tourist-y New York mug cradled in his hands, steam billowing off the top. There's two already made cups of coffee on the counter nearby.

"Shut up. I think I have every right to overthink," Tony retorts, picking his coffee and leaning against the counter opposite Rhodey.

Surprisingly, it wasn't too hard for the pair to fall back into their friendship like nothing had gotten in the way. They'd both been keeping tabs on each other, even after the fallout, so there wasn't much catchup needed. It was easy for them to remember the rhythm of their relationship.

"Sure you do," Rhodey replies. "I'm just saying, it's not necessarily. I saw how that kid looked at you, he loved you before he found out about your relations. I don't think this knowledge can really damage that love."

Tony nods with a heavy sigh, not particularly enjoying the weight on his shoulders and tightening his chest, but he doesn't even think about drinking, it's not even in his top ten coping mechanisms at this point. He's learned better. Drinking's never gotten him anywhere good.

"Morning," Steve says, voice rough with sleep. He grabs the coffee off the counter, the last of the three mugs and joins them around the counter.

"You didn't used to like coffee?" Tony points out.

Steve shrugs, taking a long draw from the mug. "After working for Shield for so long, you kind of need to like coffee."

Tony remembers Steve asking for coffee on that first day, Natasha's rolling eyes, Steve's tapping fingers on the table spelling Tony's name.

"You also know Morse Code now," Tony says, a smile touching his face. It's still off and weird and scary, but it's more at home than Tony's felt in a very long time. "Shield want you back soon?"

"I'm off. Nat's taking over for me for as long as I need."

Rhodey finishes off his coffee and offers to make breakfast for them, Steve saying he's going on a run, and Tony planning on heading down to the lab for a couple hours.

It's weird and scary, but it's home. For Tony, at least.

This is where he belongs, with Steve and Rhodey and Peter. All he's really missing is Carol to really pretend everything's back to normal.

*

Peter's quiet when he gets to the penthouse. Tony knows something's off, but he doesn't want to cross this invisible line that's drawn between them. He isn't sure if it's really his place to say anything.

"Hey, kiddo. You want something to eat? I think we have some leftover pizza from last night," Tony offers gently.

(Bags under Peter's bloodshot eyes, a healing yellowish bruise on his jaw, guilt so much guilt in his expression and weighing on his shoulders, shaking hands as he stuffs them into his pockets, a bit of dried blood above his lip.)

"I'm okay," Peter murmurs, eyes downcast. "Can we watch a movie?"

"Sure, we can, kid. We can do whatever you want to do."

He makes sure to get Peter the warmest blanket he can find and tuck it around the kid's shoulders on the couch and let him pick the movie.

Peter's quiet still as the movie starts, eyes glazed through the opening scenes. He's probably seen the movie a thousand times, so he doesn't really need to take any of it in, it's still weird to see, though. Peter's never this quiet.

He speaks so suddenly, Tony nearly jumps in his seat, luckily managing to catch himself.

"I had a panic attack," Peter says, eyes focused on the screen. He's biting nervously at his bottom lip, fingers picking at his nails. "A guy shoved me into a locker thinking it was the funniest thing in the world. I... I panicked and cried and begged until eventually Ned came and rescued me. Took me like an hour sitting on the floor to calm down. I couldn't even make it to the bathroom. I just crumbled."

Tony flinches, something inside of him deeply unsettled by the fact that his child, the young boy sitting on the couch beside him, drowning in a heavy blanket and wearing a Star Wars t-shirt, had a bad panic attack at school that day.

A protective parental instinct sparks to life inside him and he wants to snarl and go to straight to the school to murder the monster who pushed his kid into a locker.

Instead, he just nods slowly, wanting Peter to feel like he's allowed to continue.

"Ned thought I was dying at first." Peter lets out a harsh laugh and something inside Tony breaks. "He was ready to call an ambulance or something, but I just- I couldn't stop thinking I was under that fucking warehouse again and- and it was just so dark and I- I couldn't get out and I don't know... I just- I felt so fucking helpless again."

Tony nearly calls Peter out on his language, just to lighten the mood, but he knows it's not the time. This is one of those conversations that he can't avoid.

"What warehouse? What are you-" Tony trails off in confusion, unsure of what Peter's talking about.

"You know, the night with The Vulture? With the warehouse?" the young hero finally looks over at Tony, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "Did you not know?"

"Know what?"

Peter sighs, head dropping into his hands. His shoulders are noticeably tense, even through his t-shirt.

"The Vulture dropped a warehouse on me before going after the plane," Peter says like it's as easy as saying his name is Peter. "He dropped the whole fucking thing on me, must've weighed a good couple tons, you know. Had to-had to get out and save your plane."

"Why didn't you-" The guilt hits Tony like a freight train. "I took the suit from you. You- You could've died."

Peter lifts his head, shoulders slumped in exhaustion, but his eyes are angry. "And you can't have that on your conscience, I know. Don't worry, you wouldn't be blamed for a stupid kid trying to take on something too big."

"That's not what I meant," Tony argues. "I meant- I meant-"

"That's what I thought. You only care because you have to. Because I'm your kid or whatever. Your protegee and if I died, you'd have to deal with the consequences. You just don't want to admit that I'm just a liability that you need to micromanage before I go fucking up everything else too. You just like pretending to care about me to make you feel better."

Peter stands, slinging his bag over his shoulder. He's halfway to the elevator before Tony catches up to what happened.

"Hey!" he shouts, standing from the couch. Peter turns around halfheartedly, no longer angry, just exhausted. "Is that really how little you think of me? That I only want you around to keep you contained or something? You think I want you here just because I'm trying to make myself feel better? Trying to clear the red out of my ledger or some bullshit?"

Peter shrugs, eyes falling to the floor and hands clenching at his sides. He doesn't say anything.

"Because that's not true," Tony continues, desperately and angry that his kid is so hurt and broken. "I want you here because I care about you. Because you're my kid and I love you and I like spending time with you. And if I can't stop you from being a superhero, I will damn well try my best to keep you as safe as I can."

Before he can even comprehend that Peter's moved, he has an armful of teenager.

Peter's crying, shoulders shaking, and head tucked carefully against Tony's sternum, making himself smaller to fit under Tony's chin. His hands curl into the older hero's shirt, fisting the material tightly, and muffled pained noises leaving his throat.

"I haven't slept since I was here," Peter admits shakily into Tony's chest, once the latter's arms have wrapped firmly around the younger. "Not well, at least. Nightmares and I- I didn't think it would bother me, but I- I was so scared and- and I can't talk to May and-"

"It's going to be okay, buddy," Tony promises. He'd do anything to make his kid happy again. Anything. "Let's get you sitting."

It's a slow process to move them back to the couch, letting Peter curl up tightly against Tony's chest, refusing to let go, but they eventually get there. And sooner or later, Peter's cries turn to quiet sniffles.

"I just want to sleep without feeling like I'm suffocating," Peter says, head still tucked carefully against Tony's chest. "I want May to stop looking at me like she feels like I'm going to fall apart at any second. I want you to stop looking at me like I'm a ghost of someone who died. I want Steve to stop walking on eggshells around me. I want Ned to not think I'm dying. I just- I want things to go back to before."

"Before?"

"The only good thing that came out of this was you," the teenager says. (Tony thinks his heart might've stopped; his breathing definitely did.) "I just- I don't know what to do anymore."

Tony presses a kiss to Peter's curls gently. "I know a good place to start. Rest, Peter. I'll be here, okay?"

Apparently, permission was all Peter needed because it doesn't take long at all for his breathing to even out and for his hands to fall away from Tony's shirt.

"Night, kiddo."

*

"I need to make up for all the ones I missed," Tony says as he goes around the kitchen and hugs everyone before grabbing his coffee. "Expect at least half a dozen random hugs from me every day for the rest of time.

Peter grins, sticking close to Tony's side. (He looks better than he had this morning when he woke up gasping for breath and shaking from head to toe. Tony was able to talk him down pretty quickly, but sleeping again was out of the question, so they started their day at five.)

"I'm okay with that, though I'm not sure what my teacher's will say if you start just showing up at school for spontaneous hugs," Peter says, laughing as Tony slings an arm around his shoulders.

Rhodey and Steve roll their eyes playfully, finishing working on breakfast for the spider-baby with the crazy metabolism.

"We've got bacon, pancakes, hash browns, about every fruit you can imagine, juice, and an assortment of donuts I picked up this morning," Steve says, gesturing towards the food. "Make a plate. Take as much as you need."

Peter smiles gratefully, a warm blush coating his cheeks. He flushes even more when Rhodey starts helping Peter to filling his plate. He doesn't need the help, obviously, but it's nice to have it after a very tiring couple weeks.

They all settle around the table, Tony keeping one of his arms slung over the back of Peter's chair. Steve sits across from Tony, a smile on his face as he watches the pair. Rhodey's watching Steve watch Tony like he's gauging their feelings. (Peter knows Steve still likes Tony, it's pretty obvious in the heart-eyes he's sending across the table. Rhodey must know as well.)

But Peter's brought back to a time when he was little, the first time Steve was staying over for dinner and they had dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets and everyone was drinking Carol's wine and the two older were giving Steve the overprotective of Tony talk and Tony had just looked so full of love and joy, just like how he looks now.

"I have a new favourite dinosaur," Peter says between bites of food. Everyone turns to look at him and he tries not flush under their gazes. "The Sinosauropteryx. They're really small and cute."

"Like a certain spider-baby I know," Tony says. "Who should be eating a lot more than that considering we didn't have dinner last night. Your aunt is going to kill me if she finds out."

Peter blushes a little but continues to dig into the meal.

It's not perfect, nowhere near perfect, but it feels good and right. How it should. Peter's sure this is where he's meant to be. It doesn't matter whether or not he needs them. He wants them and that's more than enough.

(If Peter asks May if he can go to the compound every weekend, if Tony spends a few thousand dollars making Peter his own personalized bedroom right next to his, if Steve sends in a request for a leave of absence at Shield, if Rhodey does the same at his job, if Carol books plane tickets back to New York, well, nobody really has to know but them.)

____
super stressed with school but kinda not mad at myself for my life choices (staying up late to write out a chapter idea isn't that bad is it?) also don't hate how this is turning out?? that's a first hmm 

anywho, trying my best to update as frequently as I can, so hopefully see you soon :)

Lyss