Pull Us Back

the kid

"Is Tony Stark here?"

The teen was obviously nervous, fiddling with the straps of his backpack, his brown eyes flickering between Steve's eyes and his own red converse.

"Uh, yes. Who are you exactly?"

"I-I'm Peter Parker. I need to speak to Mr. Stark." Peter awkwardly smiled, clearly trying to calm himself down. Steve almost smiled at his nerves, but he was a bit suspicious how the kid even got up to the top floor without a card. "I-I can call the guy who needs me to speak with Mr. Stark if that helps!"

Steve chuckled softly. The kid was to nice to even possibly hurt someone. "Come in, Peter. I'll go try to get Tony."

Peter stood in the doorway. He couldn't believe his dad was Iron Man. Even if he wasn't, he was terrified about meeting his birth dad. Peter's mom must have known Tony would've been skeptical considering the pictures of her and Tony, her and Peter, a letter she wrote to Peter and Tony explaining everything, and Peter's birth certificate she included in her will. While he fought with his thoughts, Steve nabbed Clint to wake Tony, who angrily awoke a few minutes later.

Tony rubbed his eyes as he walked to the doorway, growling, "I only got two hours of sleep last night, whatever this is oughtta be good."

Peter swallowed roughly, trying to hide his fear. "H-Hi, Mr. Stark. M-May I sp-speak to you?"

Tony looked disgusted. "Who let you in my building?"

"Sir, please, this is important."

"Leave now or I'm getting my suit."

"Mr. Stark."

"One."

"Sir, please-"

"Two."

"I-"

"Three. I'm getting my su-"

"I'm your son!" Peter suddenly shouted out, clutching the backpack straps tightly in his whitened knuckled.

Tony looked at him with disbelief and laughed. "Okay, was this an elaborate plan for me to forgive Steve? Well, tell him to go fuck himself. Get out."

"December 2002, I'm guessing? You met my mom, Mary Parker, at a Christmas party you threw. Y-You told her she was the most beautiful girl in the world. You took her to your bed and threw her out the next morning. Nine months later she had me. She never told you about me because she though you wouldn't have cared." Peter paused to take a breath in. He then realized the tears rolling down his cheeks. "The o-only reason I'm here is because you're all I have left. I-I have no one else other than my two friends. If you want me to leave, I understand, sir. B-But I have all the information to prove you're my father."

Tony's breath hitched in his throat. He's never heard anyone sound so god damn sincere. "Fine. Come down to my lab with me and we'll take a quick DNA test, alright?"

Peter wiped away his tears. "Yessir."

"It's okay, kid." Tony patted his back gently. He tried to force out a smile which Peter returned. "What's your name?"

"It's Peter Parker, sir."

Tony started examining the boy, looking for similarities between himself and Peter. They had similar lip shape, but Peter's mouth was much smaller than his and Tony couldn't help put to notice their similar eye color and shape. He also noticed the way Peter fidgeted with his fingers like he was antsy to build something like Tony did. Tony opened up his lab, immediately pricking Peter with a needle and pouring the blood onto a plastic plate, making the boy yelp.

"It was just a prick, kid."

"Sorry, sir."

"It's fine, Pete, don't worry."

Peter immediately cringed at the name. Tony slipped his own blood sample into a machine with Peter's. "So, this will have to run for about an hour."

Peter shifted from one foot to the other. "D-Do you want me to leave?"

"No, you can stay. Sit," Tony smiled at him as Peter sat. "So, your mom was Mary Parker?"

"Y-Yessir."

"How is she doing?"

"Sh-she's dead, sir. Since 2006."

Tony froze nervously. "I'm sorry, Peter. My own mom died when I was six." They sat in awkward silence for a good few minutes, Tony fiddling with two little pieces of metal. "I'm sorry, Peter, but what did you mean earlier when you said I'm all you had left?"

"M-My last living relative died two weeks ago in that apartment fire in Queens," Peter whispered, staring at his hands. "Hell, I almost did too."

Tony stared at him. What was he supposed to to? Tony sucked at feelings. "I'm sorry."

"You didn't start the fire, right?" Peter sniffled, tears starting to stream down his cheeks. "I-I brought you a picture of you and my mom if that would help you believe I'm your son."

"Let's see what the DNA test says first." Tony wasn't sure if this kid was his son, but if he was, Tony wouldn't be surprised. He was bound to have a kid with all the one night stands he's had as a young adult. He grinned softly at the kid.

"So, I'm going to work on some stuff. You can read, explore, mess with scraps, just don't break anything. And word of the wise, don't touch Tasha's shit. She might kill you."

"Y-Yessir."

Peter set his bag on the chair he was sitting in and decided to explore. He crept up the stairs and looked around the base. He smiled, imagining what it would be like to live as a superhero in their base. He could be his better half, Spider-Man, in front of all of his inspirations. He'd be all like 'Hey guys, what's up? It's me, Spider-Man' and they'd be like 'Hey Spider-Man! How was saving the world?' No talk about school or bullies or grades, just awesomeness. At least in Peter's eyes.

Peter flopped onto the white couch, kicking up his feet on the coffee table. "I could get used to this."

"Who the hell are you?"

Peter squeaked loudly, turning his head to face an arrowhead in the middle of his forehead. "Oh my god, please don't kill me!"

"Answer the question and I'll consider."

"My name is Peter Parker, I am fifteen, I attend Midtown High School, I live in Queens, I was born on August 25, 2003, and my best friends' names are MJ and Ned!" he squeaked out, all in one breath. The blonde held back a laugh.

"Why are you here, Peter?"

"I'm here to talk to Mr. Stark and he told me to explore while he worked on his suits!"

Clint lowered his bow. "I'll check that. And while I'm gone, don't move."

Clint Barton scampered down the stairs and bursted into the lab.

"Hey, Tony, there's a kid in the living room saying-"

"Clint. I have a son."

"Uh, what?"

"I'm a dad."

Tony Stark couldn't believe it. He, Anthony Edward Stark, playboy billionaire, had a fifteen year old son he never knew about before that day.

Word count: 1172

[AN: this update is a day early and next week's update will probably be a day late since im going on vacation (:]