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/this is a flashback/

Peter stared off into the cloudy New York skyline as the rain pounded down around him. He was soaked to the bone, his suit sticking to him like glue. His hair stuck to his forehead with sweat and the rain, his nosebleed smeared across his face. His brown eyes were puffy with tears, but if you didn't know you couldn't tell.

"Mr. Parker, Boss is three minutes out," Karen said, voice quiet among the sound of the rain hitting the roof of the building he was perched on. Peter just nodded numbly.

Peter still couldn't believe he called Mr. Stark. He'd regretted it as soon as the billionaire picked up, but by then, what could you do? So yeah, Peter sobbed into the phone, words coming out jumbled but not so much that Tony couldn't tell that something was wrong.

"Peter, why the hell are you calling me at one in the fucking morning?!" Mr. Stark's angry voice echoed in Peter's sensitive ears. The boy flinched before answering.

"I'm so sorry-i just-i cant go home. M-Mr. Stark, i c-can't go home," Peter blubbered, the sound of snot and tears audible through the speaker.

"What? Why not?" Mr. Stark asked.

Peter choked back a sob, digging his teeth into his fist in a fruitless attempt to pull himself together enough to spit the words out. "S-She found out! She knows-fuck, she knows, Mr. Stark. Mr-i can't go home-i-i don't know what to do," Peter whimpered like a kicked puppy before completely losing it. The other end of the phone was silent, Peter's sobs the only thing heard.

Then, "Kid, don't move. I'm on my way," Mr. Stark said, voice hard but not lacking concern. The line went quiet.

As soon as Tony ended the call and Karen went silent, Peter let himself scream. He usually wasn't one to throw tantrums when things went wrong, but now? This? He had no idea what else to do but lose his mind like a five-year-old who just dropped their ice cream cone.

Peter screamed into the air until his throat felt raw and his voice sputtered out like a car out of gas. He laid down on his side on the roof, his body soaking up the rain. He just wanted to feel numb, he wanted to feel nothing. He didn't want to think about Aunt May finding the spider-man suit in his backpack anymore.

  Peter closed his eyes. Maybe this is just a nightmare, he thought. Maybe I'll wake up and everything will be fine.

  "Peter."

  Nope, didn't think so.

  Peter's eyes fluttered open and he slowly pulled himself into a sitting position. The red and gold Ironman suit hovered above him like some comic-nerd's own personal god. Peter started crying again at the sight of him.

  "Mr. Stark," the exhausted teen hiccuped. "You came."

  The Ironman suit touched down, the Tony Stark stepping out of it. As soon as he did, Peter collapsed into him.

  "Of course i came," Tony whispered into the kid's sopping head of hair. "I wouldn't leave my favorite spider out here to freeze, would i?"

  Peter sniffled, too tired to laugh. "Yeah, whatever. But..what am i gonna do?"

  Tony pulled back, taking a good look at the boy's swollen and bloodshot eyes, the state of his bloodied suit.

  "One step at a time, Underoos. First, let's clean you up."

***/present day/

"Okay, let's get you cleaned up, yeah?"

Peter groaned, pulling the covers over his head as thunder tumbled outside. Tony sat on the edge of the bed, a stack of papers in his hand.

It had been a week since Peter went out on patrol, nearly two since May passed away. Peter was just barely staying afloat.

  "Uh, your friend Ted? Ned? Came by and and dropped off your absent work. I was thinking we could go down to the lab and get a head start on it?" Tony suggested.

Peter didn't reply. The lump under the covers remained motionless.

Tony sighed, dragging a hand down his face. "C'mon, kid. You got get out of bed sometime."

Silence.

"Maybe go back to school..?"

More silence.

"Even spider-man a little?"

And even more silence.

  Tony resigned, leaving the papers on Peter's desk before walking out of the bedroom. Yeah, it was tough having the kid wallow in his own filth for a week, but it was better then the alternative. A.K.A drugs, alcohol, sex.

  "You good, Tones?"

  Tony looked up, eyes landing on Rhodey leaning against the kitchen island.

  "Oh, Rhodey, just the person i wanted to talk to!" Tony exclaimed, making his way into the kitchen.

  Rhodey frowned. "You haven't talked to me in like a month," He deadpanned. "And I'm here for Pepper, anyway."

  Tony stopped. "Pepper? What's she need?"

  Rhodey just shrugged. "Something about General Ross. i just know she doesn't want you involved. Either way, how are you?"

  Tony pursed his lips. Do i tell him?

  Of course i do, it's Rhodey.

  "I've been okay..." Tony started, not sure how to break the news of him basically having a kid gently.

  "Only okay?"

  "Well, I'm better then the depressed teen in the bedroom down the hall."

  "A depressed teen-Tony, what the fuck?!"

  Tony winced. That could've gone better. "Yeah, i adopted a kid in the last month or so."

  "Tony."

  "What?"

  Rhodey's face was one of a parent who'd put up with too much bullshit from their kid. "Why did you adopt a kid? And why didn't i know?"

  Tony wrung his hands together. "Uh, it's kinda a long story...

  "Wanna meet him?"