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Give and Take

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The shattering of a bottle was a familiar but always unwelcome. A flair of rage in their eyes followed with violent intention wasn’t something new either.


             He didn’t have the money He didn’t have the money He didn't have the money

He was atop of him in seconds and forced him to the wall. Making previous bruises scream at the contact. Of course, the attack wasn’t unexpected his senses were screaming at him to move. This was the second time this month he had come up short, but this wasn’t the second punishment; just the worse one.
Peter kept his eyes wide open looking wildly at his aunt desperately hoping that the bambi eyes Mr.Stark said he had would come through and change her mind. As usual, nothing changed; she never did like a change in her routine.
“Do you know how easy your job is bitch.” Chris’s voice was tainted with phenomenon the close proximity made his nose recognized the smell of Jack Daniels, probably where his last check had gone.
“You look pretty on the corner, get picked up, get fucked and get paid. Your supposed to be a genius that’s why they let you into that fucking smart ass school, so why can’t you figure it out?” A snarl contorted his lips baring teeth in a rage of the possibility of being cut off.
He couldn’t find his voice or make any sound move past his lips knowing that it wouldn’t do him any good anyway. Peter closed his eyes. A fist connected with his ribs knocking the wind out of his lungs and his feet out from underneath himself. As more connections were made Peter desperately escaped within himself trying to block out the pain with happier images. Choosing and sinking into the memory of his last visit to Mr. Stark. After the Vulture, they had started to hang out more. Peter received more visits to the compound (every Friday and occasional weekend) to do actual intern work as well a combat training. It was awesome. No amount of self-control was available to him when he saw Happy’s annoyed glance sweeping the schoolyard from a car more expensive than his whole life. A part of him was worried that he annoyed Mr.Stark (Happy was a given), but he selfishly let all his concerns go in exchange for the comfort of a smile and an arm wrapped around his shoulder.
Last time Peter was in the compound they didn’t visit the lab. Mr.Stark was caught in between buying back the tower or staying at the compound. Peter didn’t see why Mr.Stark would want to stay in New York. The compound from what he had been told had a way better lab and a lot more space for an experiment to go bad, and it probably wasn’t filled with bad memories of the Avengers. When He questioned Mr.Stark about it he just said real estate was important before texting Pepper his final decision to move.
The leaking of blood from his temple into his eyes brought Peter back to his current position. On the floor in his Aunt and now Chris’s apartment where he could hardly breathe. The couple was currently walking away from him and by the position of their hands, he didn’t have to guess what activity they were swapping for.
When he tried to grasp the cupboard next to him he saw white behind his eyes and felt a tingling in the back of his neck. He didn’t want to dirty the kitchen floor though so he pushed himself up with a gasp. Every step was a memory he wished to forget and thanks to his enhanced healing he hopefully would. Walking to the bathroom seemed to take a lifetime when he finally opened the door he was ready to fall into bed, which was now the bathtub.
After Ben had died May and reimmersed herself in old habits. She starting taking drugs from the hospital. Peter wasn’t stupid he knew what she was doing it he could smell the sterilized needles. Drugs wasn’t a new habit but stealing was. He only fully realized the extent of it when he came home from patrol and found her on the couch looking at old photos of her and Ben. Once she got sight of him she tossed the album at him asking if he was happy with a dazed smile and surprisingly calm/sluggish movements. She started going out again which Peter supported.
He didn’t like the idea that he took his aunt’s life away. Then came Chris. A guy she had met at a bar who after three months had moved in. He was ex-military he had got discharged for something Peter didn’t know about. Chris had insisted that Peter room would function better at a work out room for his physical therapy (not that he detected any injuries). There wasn’t a fight from May, but he still felt disappointed no matter how many times something like this happened she hoped there would be a different outcome that she would care.
That was ridiculous though. He was the one who intruded on most if not all of her life she was under no obligation to care for him only provide a roof and food, which she did. The bedroom was only the begging Chris brought to May’s attention that he ate all the cereal. That quickly escalated to locks on all the cupboard. Only a week later when Chris had blown a deal did the idea of Peter pulling his own weight come along. That’s when the jobs started. No. He couldn’t think about it, it would only bring back the itch under his skin.
Of course, he kept up with his patrol taking to go at four in the morning so they wouldn’t have the wake up to him. He hadn’t stumbled onto a big case yet only a couple muggings, robberies and attempted sexual assault. Mr.Stark said he was doing a good job, but Peter didn’t want Mr.Stark to think that he couldn’t be a good hero doing more than the average cop.
He eased his way onto the porcelain age of the tub and laid his head on his pillow. It was eleven right know he had a little bit to sleep then he would go fight some bad guys. It was the weekend so he could help out all day tomorrow. He wished he could visit Mr.Stark he felt childish even thinking about how dependent he had become on him.
Struggling to keep his eyes open Peter finally succumbed to sleep.

TIME SKIP

The redness of the spidery symbol reflected the excitement of the young hero under the mask. He was perched on a ceiling corner as he had finally come across something interesting. AN ILLEGAL WEAPONS DEALER. Not that weapons were cool…..They were cool though. What originally caught his attention was the purple glow. Even months after Toomes capture there was still some stragglers.
“Peter this seems like a very dangerous situation to enter in your start. I've detected several bruises, a possible concussion, and low blood sugar.” Karen's voice filtered to his ears. With a strange amount of human sounding concern.
“It’s fine Karen nothing that won’t fix itself in a couple hours, and I’ll eat when I get home.”
The dealers began laying their pieces down on the table. When all the weapons were in his eyeline he decided it was time to make his move. He accesses the room one more time he crawled directly above the firearms.
“How much?” Big nose sneered. Looking at the purple glow as if wielding it would make him master of the universe.
“500$” Mr.Mean-looking-possible-biker-guy responded while crossing his arms. This didn’t seem to be the response Big Nose was looking for.
“500!I was promised 300$” He spit out looking angry.
“You want it don’t you.” Mr. Mean-looking-possible-biker-guy said not looking like he was gonna budge anytime soon.
Big nose made his way to the table and while their eyes were carefully trained on each other Peter webbed one of the guns up to himself and stuck it to his back, with his Spidey Stickers…..He really should not let Ned name his powers.
“Not satisfied? Fine, I’ll take show you the rest, but don’t get any ideas, Manson.” Big noses name was apparently Manson that was disappointing.
When they left towards the other room the masked hero jumped silently down from the ceiling and grabbed the guns and stuck them around his body: calf's, stomach, back, arms. He looking like a somewhat human flytrap.
He heard grunts and punches coming from the other room. Huh, guess there weren’t any guns in there. Making sure he had everything he starting jogging outside onto the sidewalk. He received a lot of weird looks and only a view photos. He would admit he looked suspicious with guns sticking to him all around his body.O how he could see the headlines now. The run wasn’t too far. Climbing onto his apartment building roof he placed the weapons with the rest of his collection. Peter wanted to wait till he had a good hoard before showing it to Mr.Stark. He had a perimeter of the roof surrounded in various weapons.
May and Chris were out tonight. Looking at the weapons an idea came to him. Carefully taking off the suit while lying on the roof to avoid onlooker (a difficult task). When the suit was off he went over to his backpack to get his clothes. When comfortable in his blue sweatshirt he grabbed a weapon he new shot flames of a volcanic degree and aimed it at his suite. He held his fire for only 30 seconds. When he held it up there was a noticeable hole. Perfect.

Chapter Text

barrelling down the street with a full back-pack and a smile Peter ran to the train. Quick mumbled sorry's were all undermined by the excited vibrations that were coming from the teen. His jumpiness increased each second he had to wait to cross the street. The broken suit was in his backpack along with his schoolwork, which was currently two-thirds of his possessions. As the sign turned to WALK Peter placed a foot on the pavement and returned to his scurrying.

When finally making it to the bus stop Peter realized he didn't have any fair or his pass with him. He waited till the train started to pull away and made a dive for the ladder. It wasn't hard to stick to the base of the train because his shows were so worn down and he easily made it to the front, because who sits at the back of the train. it was getting dark and the sunset that was painted over the city was beautifully complimenting the reflectiveness of the buildings. Peter wished he had his camera with him. 

The steady rumbled of the tracks was suddenly interrupted by the grumbling of his own stomach he hoped there was food when he arrived at the tower. Mister Stark never questioned when he activated his garbage disposal mode. The thought of his mentor ricocheted the teen pack into his mind. He just realized that he didn't know if Mister Stark was at the tower. Tony Stark was an important man he was probably designing nuke stopping technology, arguing with the president or hanging out with his wife to be. Peter was still amazed by the man every time he saw him. He had managed to tone it down a bit though. It wasn't outright hero worship anymore just an intern and his mentor, a Jedi and his Padawan. That's what he hoped it was anyways. Unless Mister Stark saw him as a bother. Just another person who he dealt with in a day. 

Your a burden. You take advantage of him

The sudden stop of the train pulled the teen out of the dark hole he was destined to fall down. Avoiding the eyes of onlooker (no easy task in New York) he slid down the side of the train....Only getting stuck once by his stickiness. He didn't really like to call them what they were: setules. Not as fun to say in his head, but he was working on making a pun out of it. 

Realizing that the train only took his to Midtown he broke back into a run when he broke free from the crowd. He was only slightly out of breath when he started to see the outline of the tower. The giant "A" gave him his second wind and he picked up his pace bring him directly under the tower in a matter of minutes. When in front of the glass door he saw his reflection as a sweaty mess. the humidity of his own body was causing his hair to curl. He had run out of product so it was fluffier now. Happy said he looked like a punk. Peter jeans were still in good shape, the blue sweatshirt was good, and shoes.....were intact. He had nothing on him to give himself away. 

Incompetance to take care of himself. 

 Pushing through the glass door he began to walk past the front desk. 

"Excuse me, young man." He turned to face a security guard who had a mustache rivaling Friedrich nietze.  

"There are no school tours today, and last time I checked no science labs with this level of demerit hire amateurs." 

Peter began to stutter stepping slightly away from the man who at 6 feet towered over his sad 5"4. 

"I-I-I'm here to see Mister Stark." an unimpressed eyebrow was raised. 

"O really and does he know your coming?" 

"Uh, well n-" 

"No then! how about I give him a quick call and we see if he is waiting for some teenager." A smirk grew on his face as we marched behind the marble desk and reached for the phone. 

"What was your name again young man?" 

"P-Peter. Sir this isn't really-" The man held up a finger as he dialed and relaxed into his chair. 

"Hello, Mister Stark sorry to bother you but there seems to be a teenager saying that he needs to see you" Looking coy he raised his eyebrows at Peter ready to chew him out. Thanks to his advanced hearing Peter was able to pick up the other half of the conversation. 

"Is he wearing a shirt with some science joke on it?" A slightly amused voice answered. The response was seemingly not was Mr.Mustahce was expecting. 

"No sir." 

"Is it Peter?" This revelation only seemed to send Mr.Mustache. Peter was only slightly, slightly! humored. 

"Yes, sir-" 

"Well then let him up! Please don't contact the head of the company everytime someone walks in the door Jarold. Its bad form lets keep this professional okay? Good!" 

The line went dead."Jarold" slowly placed the phone down and returned his gaze to the kid. 

"I guess you can go up then." Peter was already in the elevator before he finished his sentence. 

The elevator gave Peter the privacy to take a breath. Who was that guy? The desk was usually only occupied by a secretary, but he was also accompanied by Mister Stark everytime he had come here. 

"Hello Peter, Mister Stark was requested that you join him in the lab."  A calm feminine voice entered from the ceiling causing a smile to come to the teenagers face. 

"Thanks, Friday. How's your day going?" He raised his eyes to the ceiling hoping he was making contact somewhere. 

"very well thanks for asking. Should I ask Sir to prepare some food it would seem your blood sugar is below average." There it was. 

Friday had been getting on his case lately. Silently scanning him. While he appreciated her concern he didn't want her to tell Mister Stark that he wasn't able to care for himself.  

"No thanks, Friday." 

"Very well Master Parker." Yeah, he kinda didn't trust Friday.

How could he Mister Stark probably had thousands of protocols on him, so he hacked into her mainframe and secretly put himself as one of her Alpha users. She couldn't tell on him, but she liked to voice her disapproval whenever she could. 

"Remind he to adjust your sarcasim levels later.Kay Fri?" That was his final note as he stepped out of the elevator into what he described as heaven. 

Stark labs. 

 

Chapter Text

      Stepping through the threshold Peter spotted Mister Stark at the other end of the lab in front of some holograms while he was chatting on an earpiece. The conversation was overruled from his hearing by the AC/DC being blasted. Smiling at the familiarity Peter made his way towards his mentor weaving in-between tables. A certain whirling brought his attention to another familiar face....well interface?: Butter Fingers.

 

       The poor bot had somehow got himself corned between a wall and a work table that had some half-finished solutions on it. The bot seemed too hesitant to move for fear of spilling any of them. His smile grew even more (if that was possible) as he made his way over to help Butters.

 

      "Hey, Butters! Got a little stuck their buddy?" He chuckled as he carefully lifted the table and placed it far enough away so the bot could move. In response to his newfound freedom, the bot circled around Peter while looking him up and down. Butters and Peter had gotten used to each others presence. Tony always scolded the bot about favoritism and mumbled something about self-control and a fire extinguisher.

 

      "You know kid if you keep helping him he's never gonna learn." Mister Stark teased as he clicked off his earpiece and walked towards his young protegee. The young vigilante ducked his head out of sight.

 

      "I don't mind helping him Mister Stark," Peter said as a comforting arm was wrapped around his shoulders steering him towards the table that had trapped to bot. "I know you don't kid." He clasped his hands together

 

      Turning towards him the mechanic went on. "Now before we get interrupted by a Navy Seal turned security guard or a malfunctioning piece of ancient programming I thought he would take a look at----What happened to your face?"

 

      His chin was grabbed gently as Mister Stark was fully facing Peter and taking in his black eye. The gentle hand on his face only reminded him of the gentle caresses he had experienced before always followed by pain. Peter felt the air leave his lungs as he felt the memories swimming behind his eyes causing shame to rise up in his chest. 

 

       No No No No No No No No No No No No No No 

 

      This was Mister Stark his mentor, friend, and his......role model. He didn't want Mister Stark to think he couldn't take care of himself he was Spider-Man. He lifted a building off of himself, he fought Captain America and the Bird Guy and the Metal Arm dude. Forcing himself to take a breathe and meet Mister Starks concerned gaze he began to backtrack. 

 

     "It's-It's nothing Mister Stark." A disbelieving eyebrow was raised. 

 

     "I was dealing with an arms dealer and a gun NOT the bullet but the handle part kinda made its way towards my face" he gave what he hoped would be taken as an endearing chuckle.  

 

     The disbelieving eyebrows migrated downwards "You weren't handling this gun yourself right?" 

 

     Jerking his eyeline away from the floor waving his hands "Of course not Mister Stark! I would NEVER!"

 

    His response must have been a little over-exaggerated (not that he was a drama queen) because Mister Stark smiled slightly. Patting his shoulder once again Mister Stark stood.  

 

   "Well, let's go get you something frozen. I do have some steaks I was going to get Rhodey to cook, but I'm sure he won't mind you tenderizing them with your face." 

 

   As he was being ushered towards the elevator he began to protest "Mister Stark it's really nothing! With my healing factor, it will be gone in a couple of hours anyway." When the elevator door closed a Mister Starks face scrunched together. 

 

  "Your healing factor usually takes two hours at most for bruises when exactly did you get this shiner kid?" 

 

   The look on Iron-mentors face said this wasn't going to be let go, so he made a choice. 

  

   "Well, it kinda slows down when I don't eat." Said Iron-mentors face whipped towards him so face Peter was sure he had whiplash. 

 

   "WHAT-" 

   

   The spiderling moved to cut him off "I was just doing some reading and got really caught up in it and forgot honest! It won't happen again I promise!" He flashed the man his Bambi eyes hoping to seal the deal. Mister Stark let out a sigh alerting him of his successes. 

 

   "Alright Alright. Jeeze kid! You're causing me to go grey before my time comes." The elevator door slid open and the Spider-baby was ushered to a bar stool opposite the kitchen.  

 

   "I'll make you some of my famous waffles how does that sound?" This caused a giggle to come out of his mouth as Mister Stark looked through his cupboards. 

  

   "it's six Mister Stark." Peter raised an eyebrow 

 

   "I'm Tony Stark I eat waffles whenever I want" Mister Stark said as he placed the waffle iron on the counter. 

 

    It wasn't long before Peter had eaten a good eight waffled making the spider very happy with his excuse of choice. It was a bit unsettling though. How easy it was to feel at home with Mister Stark. Only a year ago have Tony Stark make him waffles would have been the highlight of his life.it still was but it was way more common. Mister Stark just made him feel as if everything could be better. He could work in the workshop all day, train, do his homework. Eat a regular amount and possibly sleep in a regular bed. The last part was depressing even he had to admit but it did nothing to damper the fuzzy feeling he got when we thought of living with Mister Stark. 

   "You okay kid? You look like your about to enter a waffle comma." Once again he was met with a smile. Always a smile. 

 

    "Is it me? Am I too good? damn. I knew it this is why I only make waffles once a year."Peter giggled and Mister Starks eyes crinkled. 

 

    "You look beat kid how about you stay the night here and I'll drive you home tomorrow." Mister Stark suggested as he tried appeared to be cleaning up the supplies uncaring, but Peter could see the hope in his eyes that he would accept the offer....but he was wanted at home. 

 

    Losing the brightness of his smile he picked at the leftover waffle on his plate. "I can't May needs me home tonight were doing a movie night." 

 

    Mister Stark nodded biting his lip "Alrighty then let me package up some of these waffles and I'll drive you home." 

 

    The fact that Mister Stark offered him food made peter panic  Did he know? Did he know about his failure to obtain a basic human need? STUPID STUPID 

 

 

    Mister Stark never let his arm leave his shoulder not even when the met Happy in the Audi. Peter yawned and snuggled into his mentor's chest to tired to be embarrassed. It felt like he had blinked because he was being shaken awake after what felt like ten seconds. 

 

    "Hey Spider-Baby, rise and shine." Peter blinked a couple of times before regaining focus on his mentors face. 

 

    "Do you want me to walk you up?" he shook his head and grabbed his container of waffles. He climbed out of the car. 

 

    "No thanks, thanks for the ride see you later dad" he yawned shutting the door.

 

     Happy being impatient had driven off as soon as he had shut the door. He turned towards the brick building. Time to face the music. 

 

     It wasn't until he had snuck past his unconscious "Parent" and was laying in his porcelain bed did he realize what he had said. 

 

    SHIT