A Beautiful Lie

Full Summary:

Head down, mouth shut, eyes closed.

These were only a few of the rules Richard Parker carved into Peter's mind.

Follow. Repeat. Survive.

They were not, however, Spider-Man's rules. Spider-Man was brave, courageous and so freaking annoying, everything Peter Parker was not. After all, he couldn't even sum up the courage to look his father in the eye, not that it was a wise decision to make if he valued his health. After fourteen years, Peter's learned the best way to survive is to follow Rule #1, the most important out of all of them: Don't trust anyone.

However, things get much more complicated when he finds himself on Tony Stark's radar after the events in Germany.

Meanwhile, as Tony tries to cope with the aftermath of the shitstorm that was Siberia, he finds he now has to deal with a scrawny, idiotic little nervous wreck of a teenager that for some reason seems to flinch whenever anybody even breathes in his general direction.

And yet...there's something about him. Something Tony can't quite put his finger on. It's the way Peter always seems to have a nervous smile on his face, the innocence in his eyes shining through. It's the way he always seems to be in a good mood despite his numerous problems, which he fights so hard to hide from everyone. It's the way he can make Tony Stark smile in ways he never thought he could.

As Tony struggles to deal with the remnants of the Avengers and Peter battles to keep his demons hidden, the pair will quickly figure out just how much they need each other...just how much they care for each other.

Problem is...

Richard Parker is quick to figure it out as well.

Part I

The Spider on Springshore Drive

Prologue: Rule 1

1) I Will Never Trust Anyone

Friday - March 4, 2016

Queens, NY - 2764 Springshore Dr. - Parker Residence

03:14 p.m.

The soft jolt tensing through his stomach signaled the elevator's ascent. He nervously patted the side of his leg, the thick black wire of the cable cord thumping up against his thigh as he firmly held onto the abandoned DVD player. Why someone had thrown it out was still a notable question to him. If external condition and wiring were any indicators, the machine worked just fine.

Whatever. One man's trash is another man's goldmine of salvageable parts and circuits to be used for bigger and better machines and inventions... or something like that. He'd never really been good with quotes.

Apart from the whirling of the elevator motors, the only other sound came from the quick, sharp clicks that rose up from the floor as his foot tapped the ground underneath. As usual, the ride up to his and his father's floor was calm and uneventful, but to Peter Parker, the common negative of it was that it was much too short.

His tongue felt dry and puffy as beads of sweat rolled down his temple, seeming to ignore the sharp cold blasts of AC that swirled through their building. His fingers frantically tapped up and down against his thumb and the side of his pants as his eyes shifted from one place to another, never resting on a single detail for too long before leaping to the next. With his eyes closed, Peter could name you every single dent, scratch, and imperfection in the elevator's surroundings. Not that there were many.

If one were to come across the young boy, they'd simply note it as Peter being Peter, for the fourteen-year-old had never been one for exuding confidence. However, if you were to ask the boy himself for his nervous shuffling, he'd sum it up to one main thing.

It was Friday.

His father came home early from work on Fridays.

Just the sight of the man's expensive car parked outside their building was enough to have Peter twitching nervously, so much so that he'd barely even paid any attention to the other expensive-looking car outside.

Considering his and his father's rooms were on the third story of their large, expensive townhouse, Peter often had a few moments of peace in the elevator, and even more often a few moments where he hoped and prayed for the elevator to break down and trap him inside.

But he was never that lucky.

Speaking of no luck, the elevator had stopped.

Great.

Taking a shaky breath to calm his nerves, Peter stepped out of the elevator and into the main room of their living quarters.

In front of the elevator sat the main living room. Long, expensive couches faced away from the elevator while a few turned to face each other. In the center of the sofas stood a long, wooden coffee table that always seemed to hold the latest edition of the city's top science catalogs. Farther into the living room sat a large fireplace underneath a huge flat-screen TV. To the left of the living room stood the bar, racks of different expensive wines, scotches, and other beverages of the same sort lined the wall while tall wooden stools sat underneath the bar. And to the right of the living room sat the wooden staircase that spiraled up to their rooms.

Despite his less than thrilling situation, Peter had to admit, having an entire building all to yourself was pretty cool. And the view wasn't too bad either.

Turning his head to stare out the large glass windows that made up most of the side walls, Peter couldn't help the small smile that formed on his face as he took in the sight of New York City. As usual, a sea of yellow streamed through the roads while rivers of people flowed right alongside it. The obnoxiously bright lights of Town Square could be seen even from a distance as the city bustled with mid-afternoon life.

Quickly blinking back to reality after a mental berating, Peter cautiously lowered his gaze and began to make his way over to the bar next to the windows. Judging from the silence in the large suite, Peter could only pray that his father was down in the basement working in his lab. If that was the case, then he probably wouldn't see him or the others until dinner.

That in itself was a blessing.

Setting his backpack and DVD player down on the polished surface of the bar, Peter pulled his phone out of his back pocket and quickly opened it up, noting that Ned had sent him five new messages. If the emojis were any indicators, Peter could only guess that his friend had just bought a new Lego set and was raving to him about it.

Feeling a small smirk settle onto his face, Peter leaned back against the bar and folded his arms, quickly typing a message back to the boy when the sound of someone clearing their throat caught his attention. Snapping his head up, he nearly dropped his phone in shock as he caught sight of his father sitting on the couch in the center of the room, staring straight at him.

The man was tall, well over six feet, with broad shoulders highlighted by the suit he was currently wearing. He must have just gotten home. His dark brown hair was slicked back, framing his squared jaw and piercing dark eyes. A set frown was drawn onto his face, the usual stoic emotion he exhibited, if one could even call it that.

"D-dad!" Peter stuttered out instinctively, instantly tensing as the words slipped from his mouth. Quickly righting himself, he placed a hand on the back of his neck and another into the pocket of his jeans. "I...I d-didn't know you were...uhh..." He said quietly, the words trailing off as he caught sight of something strange.

Peter's father, Richard Parker, was the owner of Parkstem Labs, one of the most successful enterprises in the city, despite its small size,specializing in engineering high-tech machinery to be sold to other multi-billion dollar corporations. His work often involved consultation and evaluation, so Peter was quite used to seeing strangers in their building. Heck, the first two floors of their townhouse were used to house some of his father's associates. But never in his life had Peter expected to see in his house the man he was currently staring at.

There, with one arm resting on the lip of the couch and another holding a glass of what could only be assumed as scotch with two feet propped up on the coffee table was none other than Tony Stark. Famous - or infamous depending on how you looked at it - genius, philanthropist, billionaire, playboy. Sitting on his couch.

Talking to his father.

Shit.

Peter quickly felt all the air leave his lungs as he instantly clammed up, brain shutting down as he stared at the billionaire currently staring at him. A moment or two of awkward silence passed between the three of them before Tony cleared his throat, setting his feet back onto the floor as he sat up. "Well, look who finally decided to show up." He rose up from his seat, straightening out the buttoning on his suit. "Mr. Parker." He greeted with a cool smile and a slight nod of his head.

Peter watched as his father rose up to his feet as well, the motion seeming to snap him out of his trance as he shakily cleared his throat, swallowing the bile he could feel rising up as a nervous smile worked its way onto his face. "Umm...h-hey." He stuttered out idiotically. Hey? HEY? Tony frikkin Stark is standing right across from you and all you can say is HEY?! God, you're such a dumbass!

He cleared his throat again before trying once more. "W-what...what are you... uh...doing h-here?" He finally choked out, fiddling with his fingers nervously.

"Well, I believed it was about time we met." The man said casually, swirling the golden-colored liquid around his glass. "You've been getting my emails haven't you?" He asked, turning to stare at the boy.

Upon hearing his words, Peter could honestly say he was utterly confused. Emails? What emails? Why the hell would Tony Stark be emailing him? He was about to refute the man's words and declare he'd made some sort of mistake, only to watch as Tony gave a discreet wink, a knowing smile spreading onto his face as he stared at the kid.

Now Peter wasn't exactly what most would call observant, but he knew a signal when he saw one. Hell, he was the master of silent speaking. After all, how else are you supposed to get your messages across when you're barely ever allowed to open your mouth.

Speaking of...

Peter quickly stole a glance over to his father. Richard's face was pulled back into a cool smile, but Peter knew his father well enough to see when he was hiding his annoyance, if the man's twitching fingers told him anything. Whatever Stark was playing at, he obviously didn't approve. But...

Peter quickly nodded his head. "Y-yeah, yeah...the...t-the emails r-regarding the..uh..."

"The September Foundation."

"The September Foundation," Peter repeated."R-right, right..." At least, he hoped he was doing this right.

Tony took a small sip from his glass before setting it back down on the coffee table. "Yeah, remember when you applied?" He asked, not bothering to wait for a reply. "Well, I approved. You're in, kid." He smirked, sending another wink the kid's way, though he was sure by now the boy was already in the know. "So...now we're in business."

Peter opened his mouth to reply, only to jump at his father's sudden movements, the man having stooped down to grab both his and Tony's glasses. "So, Peter..." He said evenly, voice calm and collected (at least enough to fool Tony), "Any particular reason for why you decided to hide this from me?" He asked, walking over to the bar and depositing the glasses in the small sink. "I mean, this is pretty big and instead of hearing it from my own son, I have to hear it from our city's resident billionaire."

Instantly feeling the familiar cold claw of dread squeezing around his heart, Peter quickly tried to squash it down as he fought to come up with a suitable lie that would fool the man. Luckily, Tony seemed to notice the boy's nervousness as he walked over. "Ah, don't pluck the kid too harshly. This particular grant is a lot more private than our other ones considering it's so hands-on and personal, so when kids apply, they usually keep it on the down low, at least until something's guaranteed." He explained, a sense of twisted pride welling up at how much he nailed that on-the-spot lie.

Peter quickly shut his mouth and nodded his head vigorously.

Richard glanced between the two of them for a moment before nodding his head as well. "I see." He stated simply, lowering his head as he turned on the faucet, a steady stream of water falling into the glasses in his hands. A smile broke into his face as he turned back to them. "Well Peter, I must say I'm pleasantly surprised. Though, I suppose I shouldn't be. After all, I know you're always working hard."

"Yes, well I'm sure that's to be expected from the son of one of the most prominent scientists in the field of genome evolution and adaptation. I must say, I read a few of your papers. Your work was pretty impressive, and it takes a lot to impress me." Tony quipped, placing his hands into his pockets as he turned to glance at Peter. "I guess that's a lot to live up to, huh kid." He asked, Peter's shoulders tensing as he gave a stiff nod.

Richard gave a small chuckle. "Yes well, while I'll admit my work does take up a considerable amount of my time, I'm still very proud of you, Peter. I'm sure you've earned this." He mused before focusing back in on cleaning the glasses.

"Speaking of which," Tony continued, raising up his hands as he gestured to the boy next to him. "You think I can speak to Peter alone for a second?"

Richard nodded his head. "Of course. Peter, show Mr. Stark to your room. You can talk about whatever you need in there."

"Yes, sir." Peter uttered quietly, his voice seeming to take on a sort of monotonous, mechanical tone as he hesitantly grabbed his backpack and hastily slung it over his shoulder before picking up the DVD player and shuffling over to the stairs, Tony following close behind.

As the footfall of their steps slowly tricked down into silence, Richard turned away from the hall and back down to the glasses, the rushing of the water now the only sound in the room.

His fingers curled around the last remaining cup tightly until the glass suddenly gave way, shattering into dozens of pieces. Richard didn't even flinch as the glass sliced his finger open. He merely watched as the water ran across the wound, washing the blood off of the skin and down into the drain below.

. . . . .

Peter felt his fingers twitching at his sides as he watched Tony Stark enter his room. Considering the man had asked to speak to the boy in private led Peter to assume that what they were about to discuss had not been brought to the attention of his father, so there was at least some good news. However, if Tony wanted them to have uninterrupted privacy, they'd have to find somewhere else. After all, the lock on his door had been removed ages ago and...

Tony casually reached into his pocket and pulled out a small rectangular device. Pressing it flat against the door, it instantly latched on and expanded. metal bands quickly extended outwards, attaching to the wall next to the door, effectively bolting it shut.

Welp . . . I-I . . . . . . . .alright . . .

"Well..." Tony huffed, a smirk playing on his lips. "Your father seems like quite an . . . interesting man."

Peter folded his arms across his chest. "Yeah, he's interesting all right." He mumbled under his breath, missing the way Tony's smirk grew, if only slightly.

Any sense of exasperation quickly phased out of his body as he watched Tony mill about his room, nervousness quickly taking its place. After all, there were plenty of secrets stashed in the room, many of which were threatened just by the man's mere presence.

Tony, however, was in a much different mental state. After all, he already knew every secret the boy had . . . . . . . . almost.

The billionaire stared down at the boy's desk, taking note of the various VCRs, DVD players and other old, probably abandoned sets of machinery. Each and every one had been cracked open, various chips and wires strewn about the desk. "So...you've been busy." He commented, plucking a small wired chip up off from the messy table, Peter tensing slightly at the action. "Where'd you get this crap anyway?" Tony asked, glancing back at the kid. "Something tells me most kids aren't lining up at the nearest game station to buy this junk."

Peter merely shrugged his shoulders. "You'd be surprised the kind of stuff you find in the trash."

"You're a dumpster diver?"

"Well, I-i don't...I mean I-" Quickly feeling his face flush from what he could assume to be either nervousness or just plain embarrassment, Peter quickly folded his arms across his chest defensively and shook his head. "Okay, umm...L-listen, I know I didn't s-sign up for...for a-any grant or-"

"Ah, ah, ah!" Tony snapped sharply, waving his hand for added effect. "Me first."

"O-okay..."

Peter watched with batted breath as Tony reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone that could make his look like a bar of soap that'd been colored in with a sharpie. "Quick question of the rhetorical variety..." Tapping his fingers across the device, a small holographic screen materialized above the surface, facing out towards Peter. The video displayed on the projection was enough to make Peter's heart stop altogether, the words Tony uttered next completely obliterating it.

"That's you, isn't it?"

The video showed a suspicious man walking up to the side windows of a car, only for a masked man dressed in red and blue to swing out from the corner of the screen. A strange line shot out towards the man, wrapping around his ankles and dragging him to the ground as the masked figure swung back out of frame. But not before the video paused right as his face flashed next to the camera, revealing a red hoodie with large black goggles.

Peter's eyes trailed from the hologram up to meet Tony's, if only for a second before he corrected his mistake and averted his gaze back to his much more interesting bed. Despite the way his throat felt like it was being squeezed shut, he was pleasantly surprised to find that his voice could still work. "Uhh, no. No, what do you...what do you mean?"

"Yeah..." Tony corrected before switching to another video, this one showing the same masked figure zooming in front of a speeding car. "...yeah, look at you go." Quickly landing on the ground, the figure caught the vehicle before it could slam into the side of a fully-loaded bus.

"Whoa, nice catch." The man mused. "Three thousand pounds, forty miles an hour?" He flipped the phone and quickly retracted the hologram, pointing the end of the device at Peter. "That's not easy. Guess you have a bit of skill, huh kid?" He asked.

Peter quickly took a step forward, eyes staying locked on the ground as he stared at the phone currently resting on his desk. He could feel the blood pumping in his hears and the quick erratic beats of his heart, which were so loud he felt his teeth would soon begin to chatter. Nevertheless, he strained to maintain a cool, calm composure.

"Well I mean, y-you found that all on YouTube though, r-right?" He asked, glancing over at the man before staring back down at the phone. "I mean, that's where you found it? Cause you know that's all fake." He rambled, never noticing the way Tony rolled his eyes and began to mill around his room. As he scanned the bedroom, his eyes fell upon the thin, barely noticeable lines etched into the side of the bed headboard, creating a long vertical rectangle.

"Like, that's all done on the computer. It's like that video-"

"Uh huh, you mean like those UFOs over Phoenix?" Tony called out as the kid continued to mumble, tracing his fingers over the lines before he pressed his thumb into the center of the rectangle. The entire piece pushed in slightly before extending outwards from the headboard, revealing a secret compartment containing what the billionaire could honestly say to be the most ghastly costume he'd ever seen. "Well what do we have here?" He asked as Peter rushed forward, thrusting his arm into the compartment before ripping the pile of clothes out, tossing them into the open closet in the span of a few seconds.

"It's uh...umm..." Peter fumbled for something, anything to say that might save his ass, but realizing any words would probably just go against him, the boy decided to simply shut his mouth and stare down at the ground. He couldn't even hear his heart anymore it was beating so fast, not to mention he'd completely lost all feeling in his legs.

Super.

"So..." Tony sighed, turning to face the boy. "You're the Spider. . . . ling. Crime-fighting Spider. Spider-Boy?" He milled through a quick list of possibilities, waiting for the teen to correct him.

Peter's fingers twitched against his arm as he debated whether or not to confirm Tony's thoughts or continue to deny them. Then again, if he simply stopped talking, there was a chance the man would get angry with him. And if he made Tony Star angry, chances were his father would not take too kindly to that. In fact, it would probably make the man angry too.

He couldn't chance that. The mere thought alone had Peter's voice return, if slightly strained and stuttered. "S-Spider-Man."

Tony merely rolled his eyes. "Not in that onesie, you're not."

For some reason, the comment made Peter twitch in annoyance as he stole a glance. "It's not a onesie." He muttered as he walked past the man and back over to the desk. Noticing how some of the circuit chips were out of line, he reached down and quietly adjusted them, straightening them out once more. "Can't believe this." He muttered softly. "You know, I was having a really good day today, Mr. Stark. Didn't miss my train. This perfectly good DVD player was just sitting there, and algebra test..." He tapped the end of a screwdriver down onto the desk. "...nailed it." He sighed before falling quiet once more, not wishing to offend the man with his comments. Silence was better. Silence was always better. Silence was safety.

Tony regarded the boy in front of him for a moment before opening his mouth once more. "Who else knows? Anybody?" He asked, watching as Peter glanced over at him before lowering his head once more, giving a small, barely noticeable shake of his head. "Nobody." He whispered.

"Not even your...exceptionally wonderful father?" Tony joked, only to take a step back as Peter quickly closed the distance between them.

"You CANNOT tell him! He can't know about this! He can never know about this." Peter practically screamed, eyes glazing over in unadulterated terror. "About the crime-fighting, about the powers. He can't know any of it! They can't know any of it!" He stepped away and began to pace back and forth in front of the man, wrapping his arms around himself. "If he finds out I've been lying to him this entire time, he'd kill me!" He cried before something Tony couldn't identify seemed to cloud over the boy's eyes, his arms falling back down to his sides. "...figuratively speaking." He whispered, the words barely even audible anymore.

For a moment, Tony simply stood there, seemingly frozen. From the second he'd laid eyes on Peter, he'd instantly gotten a good sense of the kid. He was obviously shy and soft-spoken. Just his body language, the way he constantly fidgeted with his fingers and always wrapped his arms around himself in a seemingly defensive way told Tony the kid was nervous, a lot. He also seemed to be very hesitant to speak, as if the act alone would get him in trouble. In fact, Tony hadn't seen the kid make eye contact with him for more than five seconds before he looked away in . . . fear?

And yet, somehow the kid had managed to do a complete 180, staring Tony in the eyes, albeit while pure terror clouded his own. However, it was the cause of that terror that made Tony tense.. . .

The whole thing left a bad taste in Tony's mouth. However, knowing he'd come here with a single goal, he quickly tried to refocus back on the mission. He cleared his throat and glanced back over at the boy, who was staring down at the ground looking as if he'd much rather be in the middle of a pool infested with radioactive sharks. "You know what I think it really cool?" He called, Peter not even bothering to look at him. "This webbing." He lifted his arm and flicked the small metallic casing over to the boy, who caught it without even lifting his eyes. "Tensile strength is off the charts. Who manufactured that?" He asked.

Peter let out a small sigh and reluctantly lifted up his head, fingering the cold casing in his palm. "I did." He mumbled before tossing the case into his closet, where it effortlessly flopped into his hamper. "What do you think all this stuff's for?" He pointed down to the scrapped parts and loose wires of the machines strewn about his desk.

Tony sat down on the computer chair resting next to the boy's dresser, reaching back into the closet to pull out the kid's suit. "Climbing the walls?" He called. "How are you doing that? Adhesive gloves?" He asked as he ran his fingers over the sewn material of the boy's costume, searching for any clues as to how the boy was doing what he was doing.

Peter bit the bottom of his lip and turned away. "It's...uh...i-it's a long...long story." He mumbled.

"Lordy!" Peter jumped at Tony's cry. The man was currently holding the two bulky goggles attached to the face of his costume. "Can you even see in these things?!" He asked, Peter quickly yanking the costume out of his hands as the man mocked him, cheeks burning red as he opened up the compartment in his headboard, thrusting the suit back inside.

"Yes! Yes, I can see, thank you very much!" He growled, glaring over at the man before quickly realizing he'd overstepped his bounds. "S-sorry! I'm...I-I'm...sorry." He whispered before rubbing the back of his neck. "It's just that. . . . when whatever happened happened . . . ." He tried to find a way to explain what he could barely even understand himself. "It's like my senses have been dialed up to eleven, you know? There's just...there's way too much input for me. So, these...they just help...help me focus, is...is all." He finished quietly as he sat down on his bed, hoping the man wouldn't get angry at his outburst from before.

Tony stared at the kid currently fiddling with his fingers, small curls falling into his eyes. The man let out a sigh as he shook his head. "You're in dire need of an upgrade, kid." He muttered. "Systemic, top to bottom. 100-point restoration." He explained. "That's why I'm here."

Peter felt his eyebrows furrow at that. Tony Stark was one of the most famously-known people out there. His company was one of the biggest in the world, he was a part of the most well-known superhero team ever. All in all, he was a pretty busy guy, Peter would guess. So why the hell did he care about some no-named, stupid kid running around playing vigilante? Why the hell did he care about him?

"Why are you doing this?"

The man's next words jostled him from his thoughts, his head rising to look at the man for a brief moment.

"I got to know." Tony elaborated. "What gets you out of this room in the morning. No, actually...better question. Why the hell is your room so clean? You're what...fourteen?! Shouldn't you have...I don't know...piles of clothes mixed with half-eaten apples and finger painting sets strewn about all over?" He asked. After all, the only "mess" he could detect in the room was the pile of tech on the boy's desk.

"Finger pain...? What kind of kids have you been hanging around?"

"I don't know. It's not like I have much practice with this kind of stuff. You really think I look like the kind of guy that lurks around daycare centers all day long?" Tony muttered before his eyes widened slightly. "...that came out wrong."

Peter couldn't help the small chuckle that spilled from his lips at that, Tony quickly taking notice. "Oh, so you do smile. And here I thought your face muscles couldn't do such a thing. What are they, out of practice or something?" He joked.

The kid smiled softly before glancing back up at the man, noticing the way he was staring at him. Quickly realizing he was still expecting an answer, Peter let out a small sigh and stared back down at his fingers. For a moment, Tony wondered whether the boy would simply refuse to answer, but after a moment, Peter let out a small chuckle.

"You know, everyone around here has heard of the Avengers. I mean, after that crazy battle here a couple years ago, you'd have to try really, really hard to stay oblivious you know?" He asked, not bothering to wait for a response. "People nowadays know about superheroes." He continued. "About those amazing people with amazing powers and amazing lives. And...and you'd think that having people like that out there...people to protect you out there...you'd feel safe. You think...'nothing bad is going to happen. We have people watching out for us. Strong people. Good people."

He paused, the smile quickly slipping off of his face. "But. . . . . every day, there's a bank being robbed, there's a guy being mugged, there's a girl getting raped. There's . . . someone who needs help, who's praying for help, for...for someone to just...scoop them up and...and take them away from it all . . ." He paused, his face taking on a pained look before he continued. ". . . but it never comes."

Tony could only sit and stare at the boy as he continued, the words rendering him silent. Speechless.

"You start to wonder...how...how people with such powers and such amazing skills...could just...sit by and do...nothing while you're suffering right under their noses. If...if they can do such great things...if they can save the world over and over and over again . . . . then why couldn't they save you?" He paused, Tony making out the way Peter's chest seemed to heave slightly before his breathing evened out.

"It's then that you finally realize the truth. In the grand scheme of things, when it comes to people who have made it there job to save the world from harm . . . . . . you don't matter. . . . . You're not important enough to be saved."

Peter stared down at his hands, the fact that they were shaking never dawning on him, neither was the fact that he was basically insulting the Avengers in front of one of its most prominent members.

"That's why I do this." Peter finally said. "So those people who think they're alone know there's someone out there who's with them. So those people who...who are scared know there's someone there to protect them. So those people who think..." He swallowed thickly before continuing. "...who think they'll never be saved know there's someone there to look out for them...there's someone that cares about them."

Tony narrowed his eyes as he took in the boy before him, letting his words sink in as Peter glanced up at him.

"Cause...cause those people down there..." He gestured over to the window. "Those people who work from sunrise to sunset...those people who wake up every morning, have breakfast with there family and kiss their loved ones goodbye as they go to work or...or to school. . . . . . those people like me. . . . . . they don't need someone to save the entire world. . . . . . . . they just need someone to save theirs."

Peter let out a small shaky breath as he finished, surprised with himself for making it through the entire shpeal without freaking out or anything. In fact, he actually felt...good. In all honesty, when he'd first begun his little vigilante escapades, he'd been a little unsure. After all, did the benefits of doing this really outweigh the risks.

But . . . . after sharing his reasons . . . after solidifying why he did this not just to Tony Stark, but also to himself . . . . he'd never felt more sure of his actions than he did right at that moment. He'd never been so sure that Spider-Man was, in fact, something he needed not just for himself, but also for New York.

Quickly realizing he was not the only person in the room, Peter instantly tensed up once again, especially when the weight of what he'd said began to catch up with him. Holy shit . . . . . I just insulted the Avengers to someone who could basically wipe me off the face of the Earth both physically and legally! He thought frantically to himself as he refused to make eye contact with the man, lest he catch a glimpse of the undoubtedly present fury in the man's eyes.

Tony, however, exuded none of that fury that Peter assumed he would. If anything, the man was slightly. . . . impressed. Who knew a kid so young could actually . . . . understand such difficult concepts? And not just that, but also try and figure out the solution to said concepts. Albeit he was a little rough around the edges if his suit said anything, the kid's heart was still in the right place. And Tony begrudgingly had to admit that that was enough for him. "So . . . . you wanna look out for the little guy, you wanna...do your part . . . . make the world a better place, all that right?" Tony asked.

Peter glanced up at the man in surprise, relieved he wasn't mad, but still...surprised. Nevertheless, he gave a small nod and turned his attention back to his twiddling fingers.

Tony let out a sigh as he slowly lifted himself up out of the chair and made his way over to Peter. Walking across the large room, he stopped beside the kid's bed before slowly lowering himself down on it, noticing the way Peter's muscles instantly tensed, though his eyes stayed glued to his fingers. Tony lifted his arm hesitantly, wondering whether or not such a move was wise before deciding to just go for it.

Peter flinched violently as Tony's hand came to rest on his shoulder, the man rearing back slightly out of shock before coming to rest gently on the boy's arm once again. Peter's body stood stiff and rigid as he fought to keep his breathing under control at the physical contact. That had never been one of his strong suits. Though he knew better than to try and fight Tony Stark on such a trivial matter. As long as Peter was Peter and Tony Stark was Tony Stark, the billionaire could do whatever the hell he wanted to. That's just how things went with the kid. He knew better than to try and fight such things anymore.

Finally, after a moment passed where the kid realized no harm would fall upon him, Peter's body relaxed enough to the point where it didn't resemble a dried out piece of driftwood. Though he could still tell the boy was tense, Tony continued nonetheless.

"Got a passport?"

"Uhh . . . . umm, no. N-no...I don't...I don't even have a driver's license"

"You ever been to Germany?"

Where the heck was he going with this?

"Uhh...no?"

"Oh you'll love it!"

Whaa-! Peter reared back, Tony's hand slipping from his shoulder, much to his relief. "I can't go to Germany!" He exclaimed loudly.

"Why not?" Tony asked, as if the notion genuinely confused him. Oh, pshhh! Sure! To someone like Tony Stark, a trip halfway around the world was nothing. He probably did it every other weekend. But for Peter . . . . traveling so far, for so long, with strangers, without his f-

"I...I-I..." Peter stuttered out, now much more unsure of himself. "I got...homework." God, you're an idiot.

Tony seemed to think the same exact thing as he shook his head. "Alright, I'm gonna pretend you didn't say that." He muttered as he rose up from the bed, ignoring Peter's sputtering protests, knowing full well the kid actually wanted to go. He was merely trying to keep up with the facade. Still, Tony just needed one more thing to confirm that Peter was really who they needed...

"It'll probably be a little dangerous. Better tell World's Greatest Dad that-"

The words were cut from his throat as he watched Peter spring up to his feet faster than humanly possible, thrusting his arm forward as a line of webbing flew outward, wrapping around Tony's hand and effectively trapping him to the door handle.

The billionaire stared down at the sight before lifting his gaze back over to Peter, who for the first time since he'd met him was now staring Tony straight in the eyes, a determined look adorning his face. He slowly lifted up his finger, pointing it threateningly at the man before him. "Don't tell my father." He growled out.

Tony leveled a stare at the kid, his confirmation now staring him dead in the eyes. This was the kid he was looking for. "Alright, Spider-Man." He said calmly. In the back of his mind, he knew bringing a fourteen-year-old kid along on what could only be assumed to be an incredibly dangerous mission probably wasn't the best of plans, but he'd run out of options. Besides, the kid needed something to help him out in his endeavors, who was to say Tony couldn't be that something, if only for a little while.

"Get me out of this."

"So-sorry...sorry!"

In the end, he knew he probably wouldn't worry about it too much. The kid would get a new suit and he'd get a new recruit. Win-win. Perfect. After this was all over, he'd drop the kid back home, give him the suit permanently and be on his merry way, undoubtedly forgetting the kid after a few weeks. After all, this would simply be a one-time thing. Get in. Get out. Meet the kid. Help the kid. Forget the kid.

It'd be simple...

. . . . . .

. . . . . .

. . . . . .

...right?

Oh, Tony, Tony, Tony. You better buckle up, bro! Cause you're in for a SHITSHOW! WHOOOOO!

Anywhoo...it's been a while, my fishies! How've you been? How's life? JK I couldn't care less about the success or suffering of others. I know, I'm a ravishing creature with such loving qualities. Maybe that's why everyone in my stories wishes for the sweet embrace of death. :l

Boo-boo-doo! Who's ready for a new story?! (They said while simultaneously having a shit-ton of unfinished stories) Shhhh...we'll discuss that later. Don't ruin my new story excitement! Don't do it!

Anyways, I'm taking a break from DC and crossovers and simply doing a good old Marvel fanfic with my precious bahboo, Peter Parker. Yes, shocking! They like Sider-Man! OOOO!

Yeah, yeah, anyways, this is set up with the Spider-Man Homecoming Universe, if the dialogue from this scene didn't already give it away. BTW sorry for the format of this chapter. I don't usually like using in-movie dialogue or using movie scenes. I like making up my own stuff, but I felt this would be a good prologue set-up, so I just used this to introduce you guys to this story and get a feel for how I'll do these characters. Also, if any of you are hoping for me to write about the Civil War fight SIT DOWN, FUCKERS!

...

...

please don't actually leave, fuckers...

Sorry, but the next chapter will actually take place right after Peter gets back from Germany. It'll be a play on the car scene with him and Tony, and that'll about wrap up any and all scenes that tie into Homecoming and/or any other MCU movies. Everything else will be completely original.

ALRIGHT! now for the main thing. Don't know if any of you noticed but...

PETER'S DAD IS ALIVE!

Shocking I know. I'm just a little tired of reading stories where it's just him and his aunt, so I wanted to shake things up a bit. In this universe, it's just him and his father as the last remaining blood-ties and May and Ben don't exist...or do they? (more will be explained as time moves forward)

I would also like to add a little disclaimer *ahem*...I DON'T HATE MY FATHER! I promise I don't. You'll understand more if you've read Under the Wings and also if you continue reading this story, which I really hope you do cause I'm super excited about it!

anybooo... please enjoy my latest story. I'm so excited I'm ... climbing the walls!

MMMMMmmhhhh! FUNNNNYYYYY JOKKKKKEEEEEEE! (any who understand this reference will receive a smiley face)