"Thank you for seeing me, Mr. Stark."

Tony smiled and ushered May into his office, gesturing toward the sofa instead of the chairs beside his desk.

"I always have time for my favorite aunt," he told her, sincerely. "Coffee? Pastry?"

She shook her head, sitting down and looking around. This was the first time she'd been to his office, and it was impressive. The entire building had been, really. Stark gave her a chance to absorb what he knew could be overwhelming, and then settled next to her. Close enough to be personable, but not so close that it was intimate. He hated to admit it, but he was done with those days.

May turned her gaze from the décor and her expression turned serious.

"I'm worried about Peter…"

Tony frowned.

"Why?"

She shrugged, still looking anxious but uncertain how to express that into words.

"He's distracted…" she said. "And moody, and he won't talk to me when I ask what's going on."

"So… being a teenager?" Tony asked.

She sighed, and nodded.

"It's more than that, though. I think. I don't know." Frustrated by her own inability to clarify her concerns, she frowned. "He's not happy and I'm not sure what's going on. He doesn't eat, and I know he's having trouble sleeping – although he says everything is fine. It's not, though. I was just wondering if he's said anything to you?"

Stark shook his head, thinking back over the last few weeks.

"I have to admit, I haven't seen much of him."

"I'm really concerned," May said. "I suppose I shouldn't have bothered you with-"

"No," Stark raised his hand to cut her off. "I'm glad you did. Want me to give it a try?"

She smiled.

"You don't mind?"

"Of course not." He gave her his most reassuring smile. "Maybe it's girl problems." Of course it might be something a lot more serious. Only one way to find out.

May stood up.

"I appreciate it."

"Not at all. Happy to do it."

"I sometimes think Peter might have been better off if I was a man," May told him. "It might have been-"

"I assure you," Tony interrupted, taking her hand and leading her toward the door. "You should not be a man."

She smiled, and he was pleased to see her blush slightly. Maybe he wasn't 100 percent done with those days, after all.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The evening was a beautiful one. From his vantage Peter had a great view of all the lights of the skyscrapers, traffic and boats on the river. Not that he was really paying much attention to that view. His thoughts were turned so inward that he didn't even notice the change of air pressure that indicated he wasn't alone any longer or the barely noticeable clanging sound as the Iron Man suit discharged its wearer.

"Your aunt is worried about you," Tony said without preamble.

Peter started at the soft voice, and looked over.

"Mr. Stark."

Tony hid his own very real surprise and dismay at the sight of the boy. Small to begin with, Peter had a thin face and refined bone structure, but it was clear he had lost a little weight. There were also dark spots under his eyes and beyond his startled expression the boy's eyes held something else. Something that Tony hadn't seen there before. He nodded and walked over to the safety railing that Peter was leaning against and leaned against it as well, looking out over the city before turning his attention to his young companion.

"How's it going?"

"What?" Peter shrugged, but wouldn't meet Stark's gaze, knowing the man had a way of reading him that he didn't understand, and unwilling to be read. "Oh, fine… I'm fine. How are you?"

"Never better." He cocked his head, trying to catch Peter's eyes, but the boy had turned back to look out over the city once more. "I had lunch with May today."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." He returned to his topic sentence. "She's worried about you."

Peter shrugged again, a typical teenager motion that told Tony more than the boy would probably ever know.

"I'm okay."

"You don't look okay."

"I am."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Girl troubles?"

Peter snorted, and shook his head.

"No."

"Ned mad at you for some reason?"

"No."

"Superhero problems?"

Peter hesitated just long enough to give himself away, and then shook his head.

"No."

Tony moved closer, his expression intense as ever, his focus only for the young man beside him.

"What happened?"

"Nothing."

"Peter."

There was a sigh.

"Nothing. That's what happened." Peter looked over at Stark for the briefest moments and then turned back to the city below. "Nothing…" he repeated, softly.

Tony didn't say anything, knowing that there was a time to press and there was a time to step back - figuratively – and wait. And wait. Finally, though, there was another shrug.

"Last week I stopped a bus from crashing…" Peter said, softly. "A dozen people on it and who knows how many might have been hurt…"

"That's a good thing."

"Yeah. But while I was doing that a guy got shot two blocks away in a robbery." Peter still wouldn't look at Stark. "He died trying to keep a crook from taking the money out of the cash register."

Ah.

Tony reached out and put his hand on Peter's shoulder.

"And you think you could have stopped it."

"I should have stopped it," Peter snapped. "I could have. If I'd have been there I could-"

"And a dozen people on the bus might have been hurt – or killed," Tony interrupted, not moving his hand.

Peter nodded, and slumped against the top of the rail, his forehead resting on the backs of his hands.

"I get these feelings when things are going to happen…" he murmured. "I know when something is happening. But how… how do I know… Which one do I save?"

"There's no guarantee you could have stopped it," Tony told him, softly, his hand squeezing Peter's shoulder again.

"I could have," Peter said. "If I'd have been there." He took a deep breath, a shuddering breath that Tony felt through his grip. "If I'd been there…"

Tony shook his head. It was a lot for a fifteen year old to have on his shoulders, and a reminder that for all his excitement about being a superhero Peter was still a kid who was dealing with a lot more than most kids his age – and a lot of people much older – should never have to deal with. Also a reminder that Tony wasn't doing what he should be doing to help him with that responsibility. Throw a new suit at him and let him muddle through wasn't the best way to show support.

"I don't know what to tell you, Peter," Tony said, not immune to the wetness he saw on the boy's cheek. "It's something we all have to deal with. We can't save them all."

"I want to save them all," Peter said, his voice breaking as the guilt that had been crushing him for the past week finally came crashing down on him now that he was talking about it. "I should be able to save them all…"

He turned toward Tony, then, and buried his face against his chest as Stark put his arms around him and hugged him close, giving him the only support that he could. So young. So idealistic, still, and Tony hoped silently that he would never become so jaded that he didn't think he could save them all.

"I know you do, son," he whispered, running his hand through the boy's hair, trying to soothe him as his body shook with sobs. "I know."