The Heart Beneath the Armor

Steps Toward Healing

The days that followed Tony and Peter's first real conversation were awkward, with both trying to figure out what came next. Instead of talking, they retreated into their own worlds—Tony into his work and Peter into his Spider-Man duties. But even with their attempts to distract themselves, the weight of what they had learned couldn't be ignored.

Pepper watched Tony withdraw. He worked late hours, tinkering endlessly in the lab, not because there was a pressing problem, but because it was easier than dealing with the emotional fallout. She found him one night, shoulders slumped over a blueprint of the Iron Man suit, barely paying attention to what he was doing.

"Tony," she said softly, stepping into the workshop, "this isn't helping."

He didn't look up. "I'm fine, Pep."

"You're not," she countered, crossing her arms. "You're trying to fix things you can't control by throwing yourself into work. You need to go to him. Waiting around for Peter to come to you won't make things better."

Tony let out a long sigh. "I don't want to push him. He's dealing with a lot."

"Which is why he needs you," Pepper replied gently. "Go. Talk to him. Show him that you're not giving up."

Tony didn't argue. He knew she was right. This wasn't a battle he could fight with tech or logic. It was one he'd have to navigate with heart—and that scared him more than anything.

Across town, Peter was grappling with his own mess of feelings. He swung through the city night after night, fighting crime as Spider-Man, but it was harder to focus. His mind constantly drifted back to Tony—his mentor, his father. How was he supposed to reconcile the two?

At school, things felt off. Ned had noticed Peter's distracted behavior and, after a week of missed lunches and vague excuses, finally confronted him.

"Dude, you've been acting weird," Ned said as they sat on the steps outside their school. "What's going on?"

Peter hesitated, knowing he couldn't keep dodging the truth from his best friend. "It's Tony," he finally said. "Stark. He's... he's my dad."

Ned's eyes widened. "Wait, what? Like, actually your dad? For real?"

"Yeah," Peter sighed. "We just found out. He didn't know, and now... I don't know what to do. It's weird."

Ned blinked in disbelief. "Whoa. That's heavy, man."

"Tell me about it," Peter muttered, running a hand through his hair. "He wants to fix things, but I just... I don't know how to feel."

Ned frowned. "You've always looked up to him, though, right? Maybe you just need time. It's not like there's a manual for this kind of stuff."

Peter nodded, grateful for his friend's words, but the confusion remained.

Tony decided he couldn't wait any longer. He made a call to Aunt May, asking if he could come by. The truth had already come out to her, and while she was still processing it herself, she was supportive. She understood that Tony was trying to make things right.

That evening, Tony found himself sitting in May's modest apartment, sipping tea and feeling more out of place than he had in a long time.

"Peter's... having a hard time with all of this," May said softly. "It's a lot to take in."

"I know," Tony replied, his voice heavy with regret. "I don't want to overwhelm him. I just— I've already missed so much. I don't want to miss any more."