Hold Onto Me 'Cause I'm a Little Unsteady

Chapter Seventeen

Tony remembers the day Peter first moved into the tower.

He had been shaking- shock the doctors told them- and he was stained up and down in blood. His aunt and uncle's blood after the robbery. All over his clothing and his hands and a smear of it across his cheek. He had looked empty. Not hysterical or angry or breaking down, just empty.

Tony had led the teenager into his new bedroom and immediately into the bathroom, starting to run a warm bath. While it was running, he took Peter to the sink and poured a generous amount of soap over his hands, helping to massage the red out of his palms and out from under his nails.

It was a tedious process to get the blood out, it never seemed to fully disappear. But soon enough, he was leaving Peter in the bathroom to wash his clothing of all the blood and grime, and to get some pyjamas from Harley's room.

Steve had stopped him on his way out of the laundry room.

"They're watching a movie, but they're really curious and worried. How's he doing?"

Tony's breaths were shaking, struggling to hold up the strength. He had been friends with May and Ben decently from when they first met and from then on because he'd started mentoring Peter. He hadn't processed what had happened to them and he didn't have the time to because he needed to care for Peter now. That was number one priority.

"Not great," Tony said, offering a tired smile. "He's taking a bath to try to help with the shock... I mean, he just saw his only guardians die, Steve. I don't- I don't know who to fix this."

"You're doing everything you can by being there for him. Once he's doing a little bit better, we can suggest therapy to him and make sure he understands we're here for him. Just do what you always do and take care of him," Steve replied with practiced ease from having spent years with the military in World War Two. He knows death and grief and the after-effects better than most.

"I should've asked you first, I just didn't know what else to do-"

"You don't need to apologize for anything, babe. You're doing great and I love you, and you know I love Peter too. You did the right thing."

Temporary guardianship, the lady had told him at the police station. Peter needed somewhere else to go or else... who knows. Tony hadn't thought twice about taking Peter in.

Tony took a deep breath and steeled himself to continue being the rock in Peter's messy life.

It's what he'll do now too.

Now when Peter's staring empty-eyed at the ceiling, fingers twitching at his sides as though expecting something to happen to him, features slack but shoulders tense with anticipation. Responding to only yes's or no's, always followed by Sir.

This time, he's stained in his own blood, not somebody else's.

This time, it's not shock, it's like the stillness has been embedded in his DNA.

This time, Tony doesn't have a solution.

*

Harley curls up on the armchair across from Peter, not sleeping but getting as close as he can to it. His hands are stained with Peter's blood and his breaths hitch every time he thinks about what happened and how empty Peter looked, like a ghost of himself.

Tony stays kneeling beside Peter, ignoring the pain in his joints and back from the position, and runs his hands through Peter's curls over and over again.

The teenager falls asleep not long later, content to have the little bit of physical affection without any accompanying pain. It's nice and he's able to ignore the nervous edge in favour or just accepting it as it is.