Peter's unbeatable plan to survive New York City. (hacked a billionaire, help)

Rooftops are the modern equivilant to Therapy

The first, second and maybe even third thing that ran through Peter's mind were variations of multiple curse words. In the back of his vision he could see Happy who was taking pictures of him and.. Tony Stark.

Iron Man was Tony Stark.

His Boss was the billionaire he had hacked. The billionaire who sent his Boss to threaten him. His Boss was Iron Man who was also Tony Stark aka Iron Man aka his employer.

His head was literally going to explode.

Wasn't Tony Stark basically funding the Avengers initiative?

"You good kid?"

His gaze wandered onto Happy who he now vaguely recognized as Stark's bodyguard from numerous articles.

"Holy shit."

A hint of a smile made itself onto Happy's face and he raised an eyebrow at Peter.

"I take it that you know this is going to stay between us?"

Peter nodded numbly, his gaze finding it's way back to the unconscious man in front of him.

"Good, I'll get you the NDA's."

"You guys have non-disclosure agreements about Iron Man's secret Identity just laying around?"

"Iron Man is actually Tony's secret identity-" he walked around a desk and took one of the documents from a big messy pile of paper "and we only have one."

He found the rest of the contract and offered it to the boy.

"He wanted to tell you."

Peter stared down at Tony with wide sort of surprised eyes. His mouth slightly agape as though searching for words. His head snapped up to Happy and then to the contract still laying in the man's outstretched hand. Peter's fingers twitched, unsure whether to reach out and take it or to retreat from the enorm mindfuck of what was happening. He could hear Tony's slow rhythmic heartbeat and his own fast and erratic one.

Trust. The word echoed in Peter's mind, pulling a weight he had thought long gone and could scarcely comprehend anymore on him.

Swallowing hard, Peter reached out and took the contract from Happy's hand, the paper feeling strangely heavy in his grasp. He glanced down at the words printed on the page, the legal jargon swimming before his eyes, and signed it.

"Alright, thanks. Unfortunately we won't be able to issue you with your own copy for various obvious reasons."

Peter nodded, he knew that no comprehensible words would come out of his mouth if he tried to speak. He could feel his legs and hands starting to shake and his vision singling in onto a small blood speck that was clinging onto the metallic gold of the discarded Iron Man armor.

"-ou okay?"

"What?"

"Are you okay?"

"I-, I think I-" Peter stumbled up and away from Stark, basically stumbling over his own feet all the way to the door. "I have to.. to go."

Happy took a step forward, concern evident on his face but Peter all but punched the button that would open the secret passageway and ran out.

                        ˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚

He was in a dumpster. One might ask themselves how the oh so mighty Spider-Man ended up in such atrocious stinky contraption and the answer would be a sharp laugh in their face because pffffft-, Spider-Man didn't end up in dumpsters!

Peter heaved out a sigh and immediately came to regret it as the warm disgusting air of trash filled his lungs.

After the.. the whole Tony Stark did not actually send someone to kill you but is an S-class supervillain who hired you on the spot situation. Peter had panicked, stormed off and then panicked some more. He'd had a panic attack. Two actually.