The Five Times Peter Parker Saved Tony Stark (and the One Time Tony Saved Peter)

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The first time Peter felt at home in Tony Stark's car, he felt the jitters subside and subsequently feared that, after seeing the pale look on his mentor's face, he might've transferred them to the billionaire. Because, really, Tony Stark looked pale as a sheet and felt a bit like one as he slumped over onto the boy's shoulder. And Peter was briefly terrified that he'd be holding another dead body in his arms, but instead Mr. Stark just gently clutched his chest and took deep breaths.

"No surgery is perfect," he'd supplied at Peter's concern. Although Peter was pretty certain that chest pains were more than a minor mishap when concerning reconstructive heart surgery, he didn't pry too much and instead laid a cool hand over the older man's forehead.

"You're sweating, Mr. Stark," Peter said unsteadily, hoisting the man up into a sitting position. "Mr. Stark?"

"Yeah, kid, I'm fine. This is to be expected," he grunted, leaning so that his forehead rested against Peter's somewhat bony shoulder. The teen stiffened.

"You're not gonna, like, keel over on me, are you?"

Mr. Stark sensed the boy's distress and laid a shaky hand on his thigh, shaking his head against his body. With that confirmation, Peter wrapped an arm around the genius, running his fingers through the man's hair. "Where's it hurt?"

Mr. Stark pointed to the middle of his chest, "bruising, scar tissue, all fun stuff."

"Like a cocktail of nasty," Peter smiled, earning a grunt of a laugh in response. He swelled with pride briefly, though it was short lived as the grunt morphed into a groan. "Hey, Happy? How long till we get to the compound?"

"Ten minutes."

Peter shifted so he could grab his phone, texting Aunt May that he'd be staying late to help Mr. Stark on some new tech. Maybe they would if he could get the man to stop hurting. But right now, the man lurched over toward the floorboard and dry heaved briefly.

"Stomach," Mr. Stark whined, voice going hoarse with strain as he gagged again. Peter was mapping his heartbeat with his hearing. Nothing irregular... Yet.

"You realize these are all symptoms of heart attack," Peter sputtered out, earning himself a half-hearted glare.

"It's not, doc said this would happen."

"Why can't she fix it?" Peter asked childishly, cradling Mr. Stark's head as he brought him back into a sitting position.

"The procedure is too new, but don't worry, it's under—" he wretched in Peter's direction, but the boy didn't flinch, instead just tightening his hold on the father figure, "—control..."

"Right," Peter nodded, brushing the older's hair away, "anyway, I'll take care of you tonight, so don't worry. Should I call anyone? Rhodey?"

"No," Mr. Stark rolled his eyes as his head lolled back onto Peter's shoulder, "and you have school tomorrow, you are most certainly not staying to take care of me. There's no need."

"With all due respect, Mr. Stark, I'm not too sure you can stand right now."

As they pulled around to the front steps, Mr. Stark slid out first, with the help of Happy and Peter, who each held one of his arms. Peter waved Happy off, easily lifting the man in his arms. He didn't miss the comment Mr. Stark made about his oh-so-fragile masculinity, but he made a command decision to ignore it, promptly kicking the door open and making his way through the compound until he found Tony's room.

"Feels so empty now," the billionaire mumbled, making Peter's stomach sink a bit.

"I'm here now, Mr. Stark," he grinned, "I'll skip school tomorrow, pick my stuff up from Ned. I'm not goin' anywhere."