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That’s it. He’s done. Peter can’t take it anymore. He can’t do this for one more day.
Peter knows this has been coming for a while, but he’s surprised that he’s come to the decision so quickly and all at once. The idea to run away and try to strike out on his own hasn’t been floating around his consciousness for months like the weight of everything he’s been dealing with, though it’s firmly cemented in his mind now that he’s made the decision. Everyone wants something from him. He’s ok with that. What he’s not ok with is that everyone wants too much, and that he gets no choice in the matter. He hasn’t had any choices in a long time, and his life really doesn’t feel like his own anymore. Peter only knows one solution to that problem, aside from staying and continuing on as he has been, and that’s to strike out on his own. He’s positive he can do better for himself if he can just get away from all the demands people are making of him.
It’s with this thought that Peter spends one hundred and two dollars and twelve cents of his savings on a bus ticket to Chicago. He picks Chicago because it’s a big city and has skyscrapers like New York. He thinks he can get lost there easily because there’s a lot of people, and that he can re-make himself as a brand new vigilante until he’s eighteen and can be Spider Man again.
As he boards the Greyhound bus at six thirty seven PM and stares out the window, he thinks about what other kinds of names he can come up with that match his super powers. He’d chosen Spider Man because he had been bitten by a radioactive spider and because he’s sticky. Other creatures are sticky though. He thinks about making a green suit and tries to come up with some sort of name that represents amphibians. Froggy. Gecko Guy. Salamandro. All of them sound lame, but he has a twelve hour ride west to think about it, and even then, he doesn’t have to start going out as a vigilante right away. He’s going to have to figure out a place to stay first, food, clothes, a job, and if he can manage it, an education. He doesn’t want to drop out and quit school, he just wants people to stop hounding him about it.
People like May. He grimaces as the bus driver climbs into the bus, shuts the door and turns the key in the ignition. He loves May, he really does, and he wishes that there could be some other way to handle this then leaving. There’s really not, he thinks.
May is awesome. May is amazing. May has also been on Peter for the last three months about his grades. He’s only in the middle of his sophomore year, but she’s worried about college. She can’t afford to send him to college and doesn’t have the credit to help him get student loans. That means the only way he’s going to college is if he gets a scholarship, or several.
Peter wants to go to college (specifically MIT, like Mr. Stark), but what May wants from him just isn’t possible. He has a 4.2 GPA, or he did before his grade in AP History slipped from an A plus down to a B plus. In one of his other classes, his grade had gone from an A plus down to an A minus. He doesn’t know what his GPA will be now, but to May the mid term report card had been a big deal.
“It’s really not a big deal May, I promise. I still have good grades!”
“Yes, and I’m proud of you honey, I really am, but you have to get that B back up to an A at least, and that A minus back up.”
“It’s only a few points! I’m just two points away from having an A again. It’s eighty eight percent!”
“So it shouldn’t be that hard for you to bring it back up!”
Peter stares out the window into the darkness, watching cars and city lights as they pass and the bus heads out of the city. Their argument earlier that evening had only deteriorated from there into a full blown fight. He and May sometimes disagree, but it usually only gets as bad as a polite argument, or as polite as an argument can be. This time Peter and May had both started to yell. The last time Peter had been in a fight that big with somebody, it had been with Ben the night he’d died. Peter had stormed out of the apartment and Ben had come after him.
He clenches his eyes shut. He doesn’t want to think about that. It doesn’t matter, because his argument with May is still circling in his thoughts, refusing to be pushed down as the bus leaves the city.
“It’s just a few points! I’m studying! I’m turning in all my homework! The only reason I got a bad grade was because of that stupid presentation I had to do with Flash! He sabotaged the whole thing!”
“Peter, I’m sure you’re trying hard but there’s still more you can do. You spend so much of your free time out patrolling or at the tower.”
Peter had just stared at her for long moments after that, what she’d said not computing for him. “You want me to stop going to the tower?”
“Maybe cut back and only go over there one day a week.”
“May, no! This isn’t fair! It’s not like I’m flunking my classes! I got a B plus!”
“But your grades are slipping Peter!”
“Not enough for you to punish me like this! I didn’t do anything wrong!”
“It’s not a punishment, but you need to put in the work now so that you can get into college later.”
In that moment, Peter had wanted to tell her that he wasn’t going to go to college… that he was going to drop out of school altogether and go get a job at a car wash or something. They were already yelling though and Peter was desperate to escape because he’d been breathing hard and on the edge of a panic attack. So he’d left. He’d told her he was going out on patrol, not to follow him, grabbed his bag and left.
He hadn’t gone out on patrol. Instead he’d waited around outside for a few minutes to make sure she wasn’t going to follow him out into the street like Ben had done, and then walked to the subway station and gone into Manhattan. In retrospect, going to the tower to see Mr. Stark when he was that upset probably hadn’t been the best idea. He’d gone straight up to Tony’s lab and proceeded to have an argument with him just a few minutes after he arrived. It hadn’t been about school. To be honest, Peter can’t even remember what it had been about. All he knows is that he’d argued with the man when he’d gone seeking some kind of comfort, and then he’d stormed out of the lab and the tower altogether.
Peter had stood there on the street for almost five minutes after that, trying to decide what to do and where to go, but he couldn’t think of any place he could go. He couldn’t go home because May would be there wanting to talk about his grades again. He couldn’t go back into the tower because Mr. Stark was mad at him. He couldn’t go to Ned’s because Ned was at the library studying AcaDec questions with MJ, Betty and a few others, and that was a whole other can of worms Peter didn’t even want to think about opening. He also couldn’t call Happy, because recently Happy had been acting weird.
The day before, Happy had picked him up from school unexpectedly and taken him home.
“It’s a lab day, why are you taking me home?”
“Maybe you should spend some extra time studying.”
“Studying what?”
“I don’t know, didn’t you get a bad grade in History recently?”
“How do you-” Peter opened and closed his mouth several times like a fish, no sound coming out. “Happy, how do you know about my grade in History?”
“I was talking to May.”
“You were talking to May about my grades? Why?”
“She’s just worried about you. You know, it wouldn’t kill you to not give your aunt such a hard time about this stuff. She’s working hard and doing things all by herself. She cares about you and wants you to do well and-”
“Stop the car.”
“What?”
“There’s a supervillain, stop the car!”
Happy had slammed on the breaks, and Peter had jumped out. There was no supervillain, but he was breathing heavily and had been on the edge of a panic attack then too.
Peter has known for some time that Happy likes May. He’d known and ignored it because there’s nothing he can do about it, and it’s not like they were dating or anything. Except now, Peter thinks they might be if they’ve been talking to each other enough for May to rant about his grades.
So he can’t call Happy. Happy is on May’s side. He can’t go home to May, because May expects too much from him. And he can’t go talk to Mr. Stark, because for whatever reason, Peter had decided to argue with him too, even if it hadn’t been about his grades.
Peter has no one but himself. He wants to be upset about that, and maybe in a few hours or a few days he will be, but for now, having no one but himself means no expectations but his own, and that sounds nice. He feels a relief that he hasn’t in months, or maybe even in over a year. He can do better on his own, and that’s exactly what he’s going to do. He doesn’t think it’s going to be easy, but he’s positive that he’ll figure something out when he gets to Chicago.
He’s going to go to Chicago, and start living his life the way he wants to again. His life has never been completely his own to decide before because he’s never known life as anything other than a minor. Other people have always told him when to go to bed, when to get up for school, and what he can and can’t do. Those things aren’t so bad, it’s just all the rest of it that he can’t take anymore.
May doesn’t know, or maybe she does, but she just doesn’t care that Peter has no free time anymore. He doesn’t get to hang out with Ned. He barely gets to go out as Spider Man. Even when he’s home at night, he doesn’t have time to just sit and relax with May like he used to and watch silly rom-coms on TV. If he’s home, he’s studying, doing homework, or sleeping. That’s it.
Peter has been trying to figure out where to find some time to just take a breath, but the only place he can think to trim his schedule up is to cut Academic Decathlon, and MJ won’t let him out of it. He’s tried to quit three times, and each time she guilts him into staying. Just going to the competitions wouldn’t be such a time sink if he could skip some practices, but MJ won’t let him off the hook there either. Even then, he thinks, even then it wouldn’t be so bad if she didn’t get on to me about studying all the time. But she does. There’s a group chat set up for the AcaDec team where MJ sets up extra study sessions at the library, or before or after school. Last month Peter had skipped out on one and she’d shown up to his house after the extra study session and demanded he spend an hour studying AcaDec questions with her. She doesn’t care what Peter wants. Nobody does.
His thoughts circle and circle and circle until around midnight when he finally falls asleep, the bus moving steadily further west. In the morning he’ll wake up and be in Chicago, and then, just maybe, he can catch his breath. He’s been so overwhelmed with school, and studying, and AcaDec, and the pressure people have been putting on him, that he hasn’t been able to enjoy anything. How can you enjoy school or time at home, or anything at all if you can’t even breathe?
* * *
He catches four hours of sleep before the bus stops at a rest area and everyone gets off to use the bathroom. Peter hurries because he’s worried the bus will leave without him. After that, when he’s back on board and the bus is rolling towards Chicago again, he can’t get back to sleep. He’s hungry and hadn’t had time to buy anything to eat before boarding the bus the evening before, and he knows from experience that he can’t sleep on an empty stomach.
So Peter stares out the dark window as they drive down the highway. He gets his first glimpse of Chicago in the distance at just after six in the morning. It’s still dark out because it’s only the middle of February, but the sun is starting to come up.
Peter has never been to another big city before. He’s used to New York and how it sprawls, spreading out in every direction for as far as he can see, even when he’s up high on the top of a skyscraper. Chicago is big too, but not like New York. He’s excited to get off the bus, find something to eat, and then go exploring. He only has a hundred and fifty dollars on him, so he’ll have to find something cheap to eat. He’s hoping there’s a cheap hot dog stand or something near the bus terminal.
His mind really starts to wake up, thoughts both anxious and excited as they pull into the station. As soon as he steps off the bus, he’s going to be stepping into his new life. He has no idea what that life looks like, but he knows it doesn’t look like having to have perfect grades and having to spend every minute of his day doing what other people want him to.
The bus pulls to a stop, and Peter is so excited that he stands up before anyone else gets a chance to. He stretches, yawns because he’s only had four hours of sleep, and then waits somewhat impatiently for the people in front of him to collect their stuff and get out of the aisle and off the bus.
He tries to stretch as he stands in the aisle impatiently, but there’s little room to do so. Instead he bounces back and forth from one foot to another, a sleepy looking guy in front of him turning to give him an irritated look because he’s shaking the bus.
Finally the people in front of him start to move, and he’s able to step outside into the crisp, chilly morning air of Chicago. The first thing he notices is that the air smells different here than it does at home. The second thing he notices is that Tony is leaning against his car with his arms crossed in the parking lot, watching him.
Peter freezes in place, mouth working like a fish again. This time it’s him that’s holding up the people behind him.
“C’mon kid, d’ya mind?”
Peter steps to the side so he’s out of the way, letting the rest of the people on the bus disembark. His eyes don’t leave Tony’s, and his feet refuse to move any further. He could run for it. He could drop his bag and sprint away. He’s never run away from Tony before though, and he really doesn’t want to now.
Tony drops his arms to his side, looking exasperated, and then waves Peter over. Peter’s feet start moving of their own accord.
When he gets close to the car, Tony says, “Good try kid, but you know I can track your suit right?” He sounds annoyed, but his eyes are searching Peter for injuries, and Peter can tell that he’s worried.
Suddenly, annoyance bubbles up in Peter. This is supposed to be his new start!
He’s still not entirely sure what he argued with Tony about the night before, but right now he has a bone to pick with him. Tony shouldn’t be here. More than that though, Peter is pissed off because he hadn’t thought about Tony being able to track him via his Spider Man suit, which is resting at the bottom of his bag.
“What are you doing here?” Peter asks loudly. He’s supposed to be able to breathe, because this is Chicago and not New York, but he can’t. He can’t breathe, so he tries to suck in a deep breath of air, and after that his breaths are heaving. He doesn’t even realize that his fists are balling and unballing at his sides. Tony seems to notice though, because his eyes find Peter’s fists and stay there for long moments.
“Take it easy Roo. I’m here to take you home.”
“I don’t want to go home! This is my home now!” He’s making a lot of noise and attracting the attention of everyone that just got off the bus, as well as several others waiting to board another bus. He doesn’t care.
“Kid-”
“No! Forget it! I’m not going anywhere with you!”
Normally Peter wouldn’t cause a scene like this. In fact, he goes out of his way to be respectful, keep his head down, and fly under the radar unless it’s something Spider Man related. If he wasn’t breathing so heavily or trying to swallow down a panic attack, he might find the energy to be embarrassed about the ruckus he’s causing now.
It must look like Tony is trying to kidnap him or something because a guy comes over from the group of people getting ready to board a bus and asks, “Hey, we good here? What’s going on?”
Peter can’t deal with him right now. Tony looks past Peter, and in a voice that’s much too calm for the situation Peter finds himself in, says, “It’s ok, he’s my son. I’m just here to take him home.”
The guy raises his hands up like he means no harm and says, “All right man, sorry.” He turns and goes back to the line waiting for the next outgoing bus.
Peter sputters. “I’m not your son! You’re just saying that so you can drag me back to all the shit in New York I have to deal with!”
Tony’s eyes are wary as he searches Peter’s face. He crosses his arms again and leans back against his car, trying to look unbothered, though Peter can see in his face that he’s upset. “All the gray hairs I have from worrying about you say otherwise. You might as well be my kid.”
Peter snaps his mouth closed at that. Does Tony really think of him that way?
When Peter doesn’t start yelling again right away, Tony takes his chance to talk and try to calm him down. “Look, I know you and Happy got into the other day. I had a talk with him and he feels awful. He thinks you left because of him. And I know you and I argued last night, but I’m not mad about that, kid, not anymore. Sometimes shit just happens.”
Peter scoffs. “You think I left because of you and Happy?”
“I don’t know, you tell me. I know you had an argument with May last night too.”
Peter clenches his eyes shut for a moment, wishing he wasn’t in a public place so he could just scream at the top of his lungs. Not words, just emotions flying out so he doesn’t have to hold it all inside anymore. He takes several deep breaths, and then opens his eyes and stares at Tony. “Fine, let’s go,” he says, voice tight.
Tony gives him a wary look, probably wondering if Peter is going to bolt. He certainly could if he had his web slingers on. Tony motions towards the car and Peter goes around the other side and gets in the front passenger seat.
After Peter is in and buckled, Tony starts the car and pulls away. They don’t get on the highway to head home immediately. Instead they stop off to get gas and use the restroom, and then Tony takes them through a drive through and buys them both something to eat (two bags of food in Peter’s case).
When they’re finally on the road back to New York (Peter wonders how Mr. Stark had beat him there), and Peter is feeling just about as miserable as he can, Tony says, “What’s going on, kid? If this wasn’t about the arguments, what made you feel like you had to take off?”
Peter doesn’t answer at first. His face is resting against the glass window and he’s watching the terrain go by as the sun fully comes up. It had all been just… too much. Everyone wants too much from him.
“I have a 4.2 GPA, but one of my grades slipped to a B, and because another one slipped from an A+ to an A- May thinks I’m going to lose out on college scholarships or something. I shouldn’t have to push this hard all the time, Mr. Stark.” He’s not expecting his voice to crack, but it does. His throat feels tight, but Tony drove all night to come and get him, so he has to explain. “It’s like she expects me to get one hundred percent in every class, and if I have a bad day and do bad on a test, I stress out about it all day because I know May will get on to me. Then she starts in on me about Spider Man, and spending too much time at the tower, and it’s like I’m not allowed to have time for myself at all.”
When Peter finishes, Tony doesn’t respond right away. After a minute he says, “You know she just wants the best for you, right Pete?”
He turns from the window to give Tony a weak glare. He hopes this isn’t going to turn out like the car ride with Happy. “I know. That doesn’t make it any better. I know she works extra shifts to pay for Midtown, and to pay the rent, and for food and everything, because she has to since Ben died and she’s doing it alone. That just makes me feel guilty and like I have to do better, because like, a 4.2 GPA isn’t good enough, I have to get a 4.3, or a 4.4. I’m not allowed to mess up on one test, or take one day off. Everything has to be perfect. I have to be perfect, all the time.” He swallows back the frustration of the evening before, of trying to explain all of it to her, and having her not listen to a word he’d said.
“Do you know the last time I saw Ned outside of school? I can’t even remember. We have lunch, math, and AcaDec together, but I never get to see him after school to just go get a soda or watch a movie or talk about fun stuff. I tried to quit AcaDec and MJ won’t let me. She keeps guilt tripping me into staying. I quit all my other clubs so I could do Spider Man, but it’s like I have no say over my free time, not really. So I sit through AcaDec two days a week after school and stress out about having time to get my homework done. I do some homework on the car ride to the tower if Happy will let me instead of lecturing me about my grades just because he wants to be on May’s good side because he likes her. And I rush to do my homework after AcaDec so I can go out as Spider Man. None of it’s good enough for anyone, Mr. Stark, because a 4.2 GPA isn’t good enough, and MJ just gets mad at me for not paying attention during AcaDec, or for not studying enough for it. When do I get to choose what I want to do with my time?”
“That’s a lot to deal with, Underoos,” Tony agrees. Peter tries to ignore the sad look the man gives him before returning his eyes to the road. “Some of this is my fault,” he says. “I monopolize three afternoons a week. We can cut back on lab time-”
“No!” Peter is quick to say. Tony glances at him again. “Mr. Stark, I want to be at the tower. That’s- spending time with you is like, one of the only things I’m allowed to choose to do.” He’s quiet for a few moments before he says, “You’re one of the only ones that feels like… like you’re in my corner.” Peter feels even worse than before for arguing with him the night before, and then for yelling at him an hour ago in the bus station parking lot. Mr. Stark is on his side, and he drove all night to get him, and now he’s just listening and letting Peter talk without getting onto him. And he called me his son. His cheeks heat up. He feels like a jerk.
In the driver’s seat, Tony thinks on what was said for long moments, surprised, because if anything he thought that Peter would still be angry about him getting onto him about his safety as Spider Man the evening before. What does Pete mean, in his corner? Because he supports him going out as Spider Man? “Because- I help you with your suit and Spider Man?” he asks.
“No,” Peter mumbles. Then, “Yeah. Sometimes. You know how important it is to me to be Spider Man. That’s not- that’s not what I meant though.”
“What did you mean?”
“When I get to go to the lab with you, you don’t put any pressure on me to perform. I get to just be, without any expectations. Going to your lab… it’s like- it’s like for the first time that day I get to take a breath. The teachers at school expect me to be a model student because I have a high IQ, and to always turn in top work, and May expects that too. MJ expects me to stay on the team, and study even though I don’t have time. Now I can’t even get a ride from school without Happy getting onto me about what people expect of me…” Peter takes a deep breath, swiping his hoodie sleeve across his eyes at the unexpected tears that are welling up there.
“Most of the time… you’re the only one I know that won’t be disappointed in me,” Peter says when he has control over his voice again. “Like, I know you expect things too, but all your expectations are like, ‘Don’t forget to eat Peter,’ and, ‘Stay away from guys with knives and guns,’ and, ‘when was the last time you slept?’” Peter turns to look at him. “I’m tired, Mr. Stark. I just wanted to get away from it all. I don’t want to keep disappointing people and having them be angry with me all the time. My best isn’t- I’m doing my best, I swear. You have to believe me.”
Tony chances pulling his eyes away from the road so he can look Peter in the eyes. There are still tears there. The kid looks desperate… sad, hopeless.
“I believe you’re doing your best, buddy.” Tony knows exactly how Peter feels. He doubts that May ever actively puts him down, because that’s not like her, at least from what Tony has seen, but Howard had always put down Tony’s grades and accomplishments, and made him feel like he had to strive for more to get his approval. Unfortunately, Tony had never been able to do enough (and never would have been able) to gain Howard’s approval. Tony had gotten straight A’s too. He’d graduated highschool three years early and gone to MIT, and he’d done well there. None of it had ever impressed Howard, so Tony had burnt himself out for nothing, and then when he’d realized that, he’d given up completely for several years. He’d given himself over to partying, alcohol, and traveling the world trying to get as far away from Howard and his expectations and looks of disappointment as he could. There’s a reason why he doesn’t pressure Peter and always reminds him to take care of himself.
“What are we doing?” Peter asks as Tony pulls off onto an exit ramp.
“Gotta do something before we hit the road again,” he says.
Peter furrows his brows, and continues to do so until they stop in the parking lot of a gas station a few minutes later. Tony gets out of the car and goes around to Peter’s side, motioning for him to get out as well.
“Are we out of gas already?”
Tony doesn’t answer, and instead pulls him into a hug. He doesn’t let go and just holds him tightly for long moments. Peter doesn’t question him, he just hugs him back. When Tony finally lets go, he puts a hand on Peter’s shoulder and says, “You’re doing good, kid. I’m proud of you, don’t forget that. I’ll talk to May. We’ll figure something out.” He sniffs once, looks away from Peter, and then walks back around to his side of the car. Apparently that’s all they’d stopped for, because Mr. Stark gets back in, and so does Peter.
As they pull out, Peter says quietly, “May won’t listen. She already thinks I’m spending too much time at the tower and not enough time on my schoolwork.”
“Would it help if you could work on homework at the tower on lab days?”
Peter snorts humorlessly. “No. That would be awful. I can’t live for school anymore. I used to… school used to be fun. Now I hate it.”
“Ok, then would it help if Ned could come with you to the tower one day a week?”
Peter turns and stares at him, mouth hanging open. “You’d- Mr. Stark, you’d do that?”
“You said you don’t get to see him outside of school.”
“I don’t, because I spend all weekend doing homework and extra credit work and trying to cram for AcaDec or catch up on patrolling.”
“If it’s ok with Ned’s parents, I don’t see a problem with him coming with you one day a week.”
“Mr. Stark, that would be amazing,” Peter breathes.
“What does May think about you wanting to quit Decathlon?”
“I have to have extracurriculars to show on my college applications.”
“Your internship counts.”
“Yeah, but it’s not a real internship.”
“Sure it is. I keep track of the hours you’re in the lab and projects we work on. The internship department has you down as an intern and keeps all the paperwork so you can get credit.”
“I didn’t realize. I thought… we don’t always spend the day in the lab.” Sometimes they goof off, watch movies, work on one of Mr. Stark’s cars in the parking garage, or go out for a drive.
“I don’t keep track of movies, just hours in the lab. Besides, swinging an internship at Stark Industries as a high schooler will mark you as a standout on any college application. Not to mention you’ll have a letter of recommendation from me and Pepper both.”
“I don’t think May knows that.”
“I’ll tell her. And if she’s ok with it, I think you should quit Decathlon. That would give you two free afternoons to work on homework and potentially free up time on the weekend for you, right?”
Peter nods. “But how am I gonna convince MJ?”
Tony’s face grows serious, like he’s focused on a difficult engineering problem. He motions towards the windshield with one hand, and says, “You walk in, look her in the eye, and say, ‘I quit.’ Then you turn around and walk out. No discussion, just leave, because it’s your time, not hers.”
“She’ll be disappointed in me.”
“Use me as an excuse then. Say we’re upping the internship hours, and you weren’t given any choice other than to do more hours or lose the internship altogether.”
“But- anyone who hears that will hate you.”
Tony laughs. “A lot of people hate me. Can’t please everybody.”
Peter takes a deep breath and stares out the windshield. “No,” he says. “I’ll tell her I quit, and it’ll be on me.”
“When we get back to Queens, why don’t you let me come up and talk to aunt Hottie with you?”
“Yeah… I’d like that.”
“We’ll figure this out together. And the next time you feel like running away, come to the tower, or call or text me. Might save yourself the hundred bucks you spent on that bus ticket.”
“Even after we have a fight?”
“Even then, Roo. No more skipping town.”
“I could just sneak onto one of your planes the next time you go to Europe,” Peter jokes.
“Don’t even think about it. I’m getting gray hairs just imagining you stuck to the outside of a plane as we fly over the Atlantic.”
“In the plane. I’d be in the plane, not on the outside!”
“Still not any better. If I have to track you down in Europe I will, but don’t make me do that.”
Peter smiles to himself a little. He knows that Mr. Stark would track him down if he ran away to another country, because he’d driven all night to pick Peter up from a bus station in Chicago, even after Peter had shouted at him the night before. It feels good to have someone on his side and to know that Mr. Stark will always be there when he needs him.
“What you said at the bus station-”
“Forget it,” Tony says, and Peter grows quiet for long moments as they drive.
“But… did you mean it?” he asks quietly.
Tony looks uncomfortable for a moment, like he’s struggling to come up with an answer, but finally he says, “I wouldn’t throw something like that out there if I didn’t.”
Peter smiles to himself, and Tony looks over at him briefly and asks, “What are you grinning about over there?”
“I’ll tell you the next time you pull over.”
It seems Tony doesn’t want to wait for an answer and pulls over at a rest area a couple miles later. Peter pulls out his phone, turns it on and opens up his contacts. He pulls up Tony’s number and shows it to him. Tony has seen Peter’s contact list before. Once Peter had come to the tower late at night with a stab wound and Tony had needed to get May’s number from Peter’s phone to call her and let her know where Peter was and that he was being treated. His own number used to be under the name ‘Iron Man’. Now Peter has him in there as, ‘Iron Dad.’
“Clever,” Tony says, and Peter grins when he sees the little smile on his face.
“Did you just put that in there?
“No. I put it in there last month when Happy started calling you dad.”
“He what?”
Peter puts on a grumpy face and low voice, trying to imitate Happy. “Hurry up or your dad will yell at me for getting you to the tower late.” Peter clears his throat and imitates Happy again. “Heard your dad had to patch you up last night. Said you got sliced and diced by some kinda ninja.”
When Tony just continues to stare at him, Peter laughs again.
“Ok,” Tony says, “now Pepper’s comments lately about lame dad jokes make sense. My jokes are not lame.”
“Yeah, they sorta are.”
“Do you want me to leave you on the side of the road?”
“Could you just take me back to the bus stop?” Peter grins at him, and Tony mutters about gray hairs as he pulls away out of the rest area parking lot.
It’s going to be a long drive to get back to Queens, but Peter doesn’t mind, and neither does Tony. Even if it’s only one day, Peter is getting a full day to himself to do what he wants, and he wants nothing more than to take a road trip with Tony, who had come for him when he didn’t have to, and who is always there for him despite that he probably has better things to do. For the first time in a long while, Peter isn’t so worried about how things will turn out when they get back, because Tony had promised to talk to May with him. He had promised that they would figure it out together, and Peter trusts that they will.
Tony is going to carry some of the weight Peter has been hauling around all on his own. That’s nice, Peter thinks, because if Tony is going to take some of it on for him, then he can have a moment to just breathe.