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Desperate Measurers

Summary:

"He makes his way up the steps, knocking twice on the door. There's quiet shuffling, the sound of footsteps beyond the entry. The door creaks open.

Tony doesn't know what he was expecting. Maybe an old woman, leaning heavily on her cane, a few warts on her face. Maybe an ordinary person, asking why Tony would bother them so late as to disturb their slumber. What he doesn't expect is a boy, about fourteen, to open the door, looking up at Tony with curious eyes. Clearly not a witch."

I wanted to wait until i finished a few more prompts to post so i could just bang 'em out one after the other, but they're turning out longer than expected, sooo... Whumptober prompts "desperate measures" & "magical exhaustion"

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Tony meets Pepper Potts at around fifteen years old. She's outspoken, always fighting for what she believes in, even when she's new to the small farming town, she never backs down from anyone.

 

To Tony, who despite his family's riches, has worked on a farm his whole life (his father had always believed in hard work, constantly drilling into Tony that he needed to earn his spot among the family business), she was everything. When she passes by him, holding books she got from the library in town, marching her way back home, she waves to Tony, sweaty and gross from hours in the sun. Sometimes she'd talk to him, conversation struck up with awkward topics and hoping the flush of sun and hard work covers the blush Tony feels spread across his face whenever she talked to him.

 

They grew closer over the years, and the more time she spent on the outskirts of the bustling city, the more she learned of Tony's… less flattering pastimes. It's in the past, but he sees the way her eyes shift over him like she's trying to figure out what Tony thinks of her.

 

It hurts, but it's justified. With his parents out all the time doing the actually important family business, teenage Tony Stark would find a girl, seen before or not, and charm his way into her bedroom.

 

So, yeah. He gets her hesitance.

 

But it was days like those, abandoning his far work and preparation to take over his father's company, running out into the forest with all the other teens in the small farming town that Tony felt truly normal. They'd start campfires and tell tales of witches and warlocks that lay deep in the woods, and anyone who ventured too far would never see their home again.

 

Now he's in his thirties, running his father's company, Pepper by his side. And there's nothing Tony could ever want more than this.

 

When he was young, he listened to Clint Barton's stories of witches in the woods, and vowed never to venture past the edges, where the trees still had space between them, and sunlight could hit the floor, so that way he could see any warlock who tried to come near him with a curse.

 

They were just stories, of course, but Barton's ability to tell of bodies turned to stone and ash, people cursed into the bodies of mice and cattle, it was enough to make teenage Tony skeptical.

 

Until he passed the treeline one night for a dare. Shapes moved past, crunching and shuffling in the dark. Taunting words, horrifying visions. All a form of hysteria, probably done by the copious amounts of alcohol he'd snuck to the party. Still, no other teen dared to go past the treeline ever again after Tony raced out with wide eyes. 

 

It's hilarious, looking back, because there really wasn't anything to fear. Witches and warlocks don't exist, and Tony knows it.

 

Tony has everything he could ever need. Despite the loss of his parents, he had Pepper, Rhodey, and who could ever need anything more?

 

A man who has everything, and nothing at all.

 

Tony shakes his head.

 

He has everything, and nothing to worry over.

 

Until Pepper starts to slow. 

 

Her bright eyes are tired, and her movements are weak.

 

He calls in the most highly coveted doctors in the world. They both tell him there's nothing to be done. 

 

Pepper grows weaker as days pass, she can hardly get out of bed anymore. He abandons his work, sitting next to her and holding her hand.

 

Some would say fear is a great motivator. Tony disagrees. He fears losing Pepper like nothing before. He watches her grow weak, and despite how much it hurts, he can't bear to leave her alone. Rhodey pushes Tony out of the room to wash off, casting him worried glances that Tony cannot stand.

 

Then he remembers.

 

"They say he's magic. Cures the incurable, makes light from darkness. Turns your heart to stone. You can ask him for anything you need, but you must repay him in three days' time. Otherwise, you never see a good day after."

 

Cures the incurable.

 

He dresses nice. Shaves the misshapen stubble that coats his face. One must look presentable when dealing with was could very well be a demon.

 

He sets off, taking his fastest horse out of the kingdom, and to the far outskirts of a farming village.

 

The ride feels like an eternity, and when he gets to the familiar property, the stable boy nearly jumps out of his skin at the sight of him.

 

"Mr. Stark, sir! We weren't expecting a visit so soon!"

 

"I'm just in town." He hands the reins of the horse off to the stable boy. The boy nods, looking dazed.

 

"Of course, sir." He salutes, and Tony resists the urge to roll his eyes. He's doing his best.

 

Tony loses the kid after beginning his rounds, drifting off into the forest unnoticed. 

 

Good. He thinks. When Pepper's alright again she won't have to worry about a news fiasco about how I'm the witch of the northern woods.

 

The path he finds starts out modest, and slowly gets smaller as he goes on. Clearly after his attempt, there have been many more, but no one makes it further than a mile. He trails his eyes upwards, noticing the denser leaves have begun to block out the sun. Near him, nailed in to the trunk of a mighty oak, lay a marker. But it is not the only of it's kind. there is more than one sign nailed to the tree. Many, in fact.

 

Beware, witch lies beyond.

 

Do not go near if you value what you love.

 

Leave. Do not come back.

 

The witch does not favor those who brave her woods.

 

It's… unsettling, Tony will give it that. But a children's tale is hardly enough to keep a grown man out of the woods.

 

Go further, and your hubris will be the death of you.

 

Tony likes irony most of the time. He's come to realize it's a little less funny when it alludes to his possible untimely death.

 

He walks further. The path is overgrown almost completely, roots and fallen trees block his trek, making the journey close to impossible. But Tony loves Pepper. Loves her like he's never loved anyone before, and so he will do anything to bring her back, to give her the life she deserves.

 

Through the darkness, Tony finds light. Literally. Little orbs of golden yellow light the path, much more manicured this time around, with flowers and mushrooms and a small cottage just up the road. He turns back to where he had come from, cold, uninviting forest with thick leaves and looming trees. The contrast is so stark it must be magic. And yet Tony refuses to believe it.

 

He makes his way up the steps, knocking twice on the door. There's quiet shuffling, the sound of footsteps beyond the entry. The door creaks open.

 

Tony doesn't know what he was expecting. Maybe an old woman, leaning heavily on her cane, a few warts on her face. Maybe an ordinary person, asking why Tony would bother them so late as to disturb their slumber. What he doesn't expect is a boy, about fourteen, to open the door, looking up at Tony with curious eyes. Clearly not a witch.

 

"Hello?" He tilts his head, smiling softly in the dim glow coming from inside.

 

"Hi, sorry, I'll be going now-" he turns to leave, but the kid grabs his wrist. An almost electric shock shoots through his arm, and Tony jerks back, pulling it to his chest. 

 

"Ow!" He shouts, giving the boy an offended look. The kid looks surprised. Maybe that's fear, actually. He's the one with magic, why is he afraid?

 

"Sorry! Sorry." The door opens further. "You need my help. Could I offer you some tea?" The kid looks almost hopeful. Tony nods slowly. 

 

There's already two cups out, settled on a table in the lounge.

 

The kid looks up at Tony expectantly once they sit. 

 

"Mr. Stark." He smiles softly. Taking his cup. "You're here for your lover, yes?" Tony startles. 

 

"How'd you know that?" The kid doesn't look phased.

 

"I know a lot of things. Like how your favorite food is a chocolate pastry you get at the bakery in the corner of your home street, and you worked on a farm when you were young, and always favored your mother over your father, and the night they were killed you got into a fight with them, and-"

 

"Enough!" Tony shouts, fists clenched. How did this kid know all of that? Of course, it wasn't like Tony hid, but this kid had never set foot in the city. Tony thinks he'd remember a kid like this. "I'm here for Pepper. That's it. Not to rehear my whole life story, not to chat."

 

"Well. That's a little rude, isn't it? I offer your wife safety and life, and you won't humor me a bit?"

 

"Not if I know your wears already extract a heavy toll." Tony sniffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

 

"Is that what you humans have been saying? No wonder no one comes by anymore." His tone is mocking, but there's a hint of disappointment that the kid allows into his voice.

 

"You're not human? You act like one. No matter, it's nothing science can't figure out." Tony waves a hand, as if dismissing the fact he could be anything else. He watches the kid's brow furrow.

 

"Your pride will be the death of you, Mr. Stark." He takes a sip of his drink, relishing Tony's stunned silence. "So. About this wife of yours. Why did you come to me?"

 

"None of the doctors could cure… whatever she has." Tony says, voice flat. Then, quieter, "They say you can cure the incurable."

 

"But why come to me if you don't believe in magic?"

 

"It's just science I don't understand yet. I'll figure out your tricks, kid." The boy hums, stirring his tea.

 

"You going to drink yours?"

 

"I quite prefer coffee, actually." He tells him. The drink turns a dark brown with a wave of the kid's hand. He looks very smug over in his seat. "Cool party trick, kid."

 

"Peter." Tony looks up, surprised.

 

"That's your name?" The kid looks almost sheepish. Almost. He nods, staring into his cup. Tony takes a deep breath.

 

"She was fine a few days ago. Her perfect, usually, badass self. But she came home one day and… she seemed tired. She slowed down and now, she can't get out of bed anymore." Tony takes a deep breath. The next words cut deep. "The doctors say she's a breathing corpse." Peter watches him curiously.

 

"Do you think it might be a curse?" Tony jumps up.

 

"No! No. Why would anyone want to curse her?" Peter shrugs.

 

"People curse for all kinds of things. I'll look into it, but I might need more information." Tony nods.

 

"Anything. What do you need? I'll come back tomorrow." Peter shakes his head. 

 

"I'll call you."

 

"With what? A raven?" Peter doesn't answer. Tony drops the joking tone for a moment as he starts toward the door. "What about the payment? They say it extracts a heavy toll. How much do you need me to give?" Peter shakes his head again.

 

"There is none." Tony stops moving. He swivels to see Peter's face.

 

"What?"

 

"The price. I don't have one. It's free." The door shuts in Tony's face.



Tony gets back home just as the sun begins to rise over the horizon, as he arrives at his home he gets to watch the city wake up, pull themselves out of their townhouses and into the cold, late-autumn air. 

 

In contrast to outside, Tony's home is warm, and smells like hot chocolate. He relishes for a moment, it's one of Pepper's favorite smells, especially in the holidays.

 

Rhodey appears from around the doorway to the kitchen. "Where the hell were you?" He hisses. The soft sound of bubbling liquid sounds from the stove, the source of the nice smell.

 

"I was out and about, you know me, unpredictable and all that." Tony waves a hand, trying to conceal the undying repetition of the same thoughts over and over that's plagued his mind.

 

There's a chance. There's a chance. There's a chance.

 

"You haven't left Pepper's side in over a month! What could you possibly be planning this time?" Tony shakes his head.

 

"Have a little faith, Rhodey. You make it sound like I'm always doing something bad." Rhodey raises an eyebrow.

 

"You are."

 

"Ye of little faith." Tony mutters.

 

There's a chance. There's a chance. There's a chance.



Tony stands in his study, picking out a new book to read to Pepper. He's just about to grab a copy of A Study in Scarlet, when he's whisked out of existence, and is suddenly standing in Peter's cozy cabin. He adjusts to the dim lighting, blinking around. 

 

Magic. The thought comes unbidden, and Tony dismisses it quickly. Peter just has science Tony doesn’t understand yet. But he will. One day.

 

“Would Pepper have any enemies?” 

 

“Hello to you too, Peter.” Tony scoffs. “Wait, I didn’t tell you her name. How’d you-”

 

“Does Pepper have any enemies?” Peter interrupts, nose deep in a book, not even bothering to look up.

 

“Not that I’m aware of. Maybe someone could be mad that she has the position she has, and not them, but I can’t imagine them going to the length to curse them.” Pepper was always kind, he can’t imagine her having any enemies. “Though I am a very dislikable guy, so that could have something to do with it.” Peter nods, still not looking up.

 

“Alright.” Peter waves his hand, and Tony is back in his library, blinking away from the disorienting experience. 

 

Tony mutters to himself, abandoning the previously thought out Study in Scarlet, going for a physics based book instead.

 

The more Peter does it, the less disorienting it becomes. Tony will disappear from his home, and reappear in Peter's study, or kitchen, or living room. He’s always reading something, or scribbling down something in a journal. 

 

Sometimes, like Peter has a sixth-sense for these sorts of things, Tony will blink, and be in Peter’s living room just to talk. With Pepper bedridden, everything has become a lot more stressful. When he’s overwhelmed, he’ll be called to Peter’s cottage in the woods to talk over a cup of tea.

 

That’s another thing. Tony’s started to like Peter’s tea. Only Peter’s. He won't try anyone else's.

 

Slowly, Peter looks up from his books. It's slow, doesn't happen very often, and only when Peter thought Tony wasn't looking.

 

"It must be lonely out here, huh?" Tony says one day, after Peter looks up, catching Tony's eye, head snapping back down when he was caught.

 

"I guess."

 

"Where are your parents?" Peter shrugs.

 

"Left me with my aunt and uncle when I was a kid." 

 

"And where are they?" Peter shrugs again, hand making a gesture in the air.

 

"Gone." Tony doesn't push any further. The dejected tone Peter's voice takes is enough for Tony to take the hint. Instead, he nods slowly, changing the subject to talk about Rhodey's failed attempts at hot chocolate. 

 

When he's finished, he can see the ghost of a smile on Peter's lips as he nods, waving his hand to put Tony back in his townhouse.



Peter’s home is always warm. It’s cozy, the type of cozy that you can feel deep in your bones after a long day at work. The shelves are always stocked with books, and the fireplace always provides a soft orange glow to the house’s interior. Peter’s home also always smells of whatever tea-like concoction Peter’s decided to try. 

 

He’s also an avid pastry chef, as Tony comes to learn. After showing an interest in Peter’s cookies, he’s since received many a pastry everytime he finds himself in Peter’s kitchen. They talk even more now, Tony will strike up conversation with a tired looking Peter and tell jokes just to watch him smile, just to hear him laugh. He remembers having his childhood stolen from him, so he supposes some sympathy makes sense. Peter’s just a kid looking for a friend, and Tony thinks he might understand that better than anyone. It’s peaceful here, and Tony doesn’t think he would mind doing this every day for as long as Peter felt to inviting him into his home.



It's two weeks later, Tony's back in the kitchen, cooking breakfast. His mind drifts back to last night, Peter working through his dinner slowly, talking excitedly about how he thinks he may have figured out the cure for Pepper's illness. Tony had surged forward from his spot on the comfy sofa to hug Peter tightly.

 

"Thank you." He whispers. Because of all the things he could say, this is the most important one. "You've saved the woman I love." Peter smiles, looking brighter than Tony's ever seen him. They've grown closer, Peter no longer hides his face in books, and when he does, he'll glance up at Tony, giving a smile when he's caught listening intently to Tony's stories.

 

He's brought back into reality by Rhodey's footsteps from behind.

 

"Hey, Tony." That is not Rhodey's voice, Is Tony's first thought. His mind screeches to a halt.

 

"Pepper?" It's relief, deep in his bones. Utter love, disbelief and thankfulness. Peter did it. Actually, really, truly saved Pepper's life. Tony would give his own in return for what Peter's done if the boy hadn't already made it so explicitly clear he didn't need anything in return.

 

Just a friend. Tony rethinks Peter’s words. He turns them over and over in his head. Tony doesn’t have friends. He has one. James Rhodes. Peter’s different. Peter’s… Tony doesn’t know what Peter is. Not a friend, not an enemy. He cares for Peter far more than he would for him to be anything as simple as an acquaintance.

 

He’s shaken from his thoughts when Pepper places a hand on his arm. She looks tired and weak, but she’s alive. Tony doesn’t think he could ever need anything else.

 

“I see the world hasn’t burned down in my absence.” She smiles, warm and lovely, and it’s everything Tony has ever wanted.

 

“Believe it or not, I can actually care for things when you’re gone.” he tells her, sniffing indignantly. She laughs again, and Tony can feel his eyes watering through his smile. Her own smile falls, concern replacing the happy glint in her eyes.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

“I’m just so happy you’re alright.” He thinks he could be shaking, but he doesn’t really care. Pepper’s here. She’s alright.



It’s been three days. Tony’s beyond grateful for what Peter’s done, but there’s been no sign of the boy. It’s not like Tony expected to be invited over all time, considering Peter had simply been doing him a favor, but Tony is begrudging to admit, Peter had quite the effect on him. He actually misses afternoon tea with Peter, which is something that both surprises Tony, yet doesn’t at all. He misses Peter’s company.

 

He waits on it, a sign of any sort, but there’s nothing. No word from Peter at all. 

 

It’s the third day, and Tony thinks he might actually decide to take matters into his own hands if Peter doesn’t give him the chance to thank him at least one more time. Seriously, Tony does not know what chaos he’d cause if he’d actually lost Pepper.



Daybreak comes, and with it does the last strings of Tony’s personal restraint. Pepper’s not awake yet, so he leaves a note that he may not be back until late, saddles a horse, and begins his trek down to the outskirts of the town.

 

He arrives at the ranch estate in a rush, barely greeting the young stable boy before, as discreetly as possible as he can do in such a panic, slipping into the forest. The path is as he remembers, but as he passes the horrifying signs, Peter’s magic light globes do not greet him. The house’s lights are on in two of the windows, and he hastily makes his way to the front door, knocking twice. There is no reaction, and after two more attempts, Tony gives in, trying for the handle. It gives way easily, and the sight inside does not make Tony any less uneasy. 

 

He walks through the house, which is as it was when Tony left it only three days prior. It’s darker inside now, with some of the candles out, and the sky tinting orange with the day’s end. Tony finds Peter beside the sofa, on his side. He turns Peter over on his back, frightened by the pale color in his cheeks, and the way no matter how long he looks, he cannot see Peter’s chest rise. A small trail of blood marks the spot from his mouth, all the way down to his chin. He looks dead.

 

He raises his hand to Peter’s neck, feeling frantically for a pulse point. There, softly under his fingers, is Peter. Near dead, but still holding on. His cheeks are sunken in, and his eyes are colored with dark bags. He looks devoid of the usual youth that spreads across him, languid and whole and alive, as he should be right now, because he's a child. Tony wants to vomit.

 

Doctor. This boy needs a doctor.

 

Tony scoops Peter up into his arms, rushing out of the house, back down the path, and all the way to the stable. He wishes he could tell Pepper to get the doctors ready, that he has a child who is in desperate need of care. 

 

The stable boy isn't there to get his horse, but it hardly matters, this is where Tony spent his childhood after all.

 

He manages to mount his horse one-handed in record time.



The ride is shorter than it was getting here with Tony’s newfound determination, but it’s achingly long. Peter needs help now. He needed help a while ago. How long was he there, waiting for Tony to come help him? 

 

Pepper gasps when she sees him, taking his cargo, promising to get the linens on the guest bed for him.

 

“No- Pepper, I can’t leave him, he needs me-”

 

“He needs a doctor, Tony. I’ve got him. Go get help.” She says firmly. Peter looks so small in her arms. He holds down a bile, nodding, and rushing out of the house.



He knocks impatiently on Strange’s door. Dr. Strange is a powerful doctor, he knows. He’s seen him work, he knows this man well. Trust. I trust him. Tony reminds himself. Do I trust him with Peter?

 

He knocks again.

 

“What, Stark?” His voice is slow with sleep, like he’s just woken up. Tony doesn’t blame him, by the look of the sky, it must be early morning by now.

 

“I need your help.”

 

“My life doesn’t revolve around you.”

 

“There’s a kid, Strange, Peter. He’s, oh, I don’t know. I need help. Please, please help me.” Tony Stark does not beg for anyone. But for Peter? He would burn down the world if it meant keeping him safe.

 

He could think about the broad sweeping implications of that later. When Peter is safe.

 

The talk of a child seems to spur Strange into action. He follows Tony through the streets, much too slow for Tony’s liking, and makes it to the Stark household, where Peter lay in the guest bedroom, covered in white sheets, barely lighter than the boy himself. He notices Pepper’s cleaned the blood from his face, which is something Tony is grateful for.

 

Strange checks his pulse, then his breathing, then lifts the boy’s arms and legs, scanning slowly.

 

“I must admit, Stark. You manage to surprise me every time.” Tony sends him a glare. “I think it to be simply exhaustion. Let him rest, and when he wakes up he will need plenty of fluids and nourishment.” Tony sighs in relief. “He just needs to be properly cared for, as far as I can see.”

 

Tony can do that. Tony will do that. Tony would move mountains, if Peter needed him to. And yet, Peter doesn’t. Peter just needs a… Peter needs a friend. Not a dad. Just a friend. Stop getting ahead of yourself, Stark.

 

It’s a few days later. Tony sits by Peter’s bed, applying cool towels, and the same treatment of stories he had done for Pepper. Peter was always reading whenever Tony saw him, so he hopes the boy will appreciate the gesture.

 

He's about to drift off when the blankets shift. His head snaps up, meeting Peter's slowly blinking eyes.

 

"Wha'?" Peter murmurs, slowly moving to sit up.

 

"Woah, woah. Easy, kid. You've overworked yourself enough as it is." He's not quite sure when the last time he's actually gotten decent sleep, but any trace of stress leaves Tony's body seeing Peter conscious once more. "You'll be back to making afternoon tea and pastries in no time." Peter looks up at him confused. Then, his eyes widen, and he sits up again, with newly regained vigor. Tony reaches up to grip Peter's shoulders, trying to stop the kid from hurting himself.

 

“The spell! Did it-”

 

“Pepper’s fine. It’s all fine, Peter. Dr. Strange says you really need rest so will you please stop trying to get out of bed?”

 

“Dr… Strange?” Peter tilts his head, shifting back against the blankets. Tony slowly let's with his grip on Peter's shoulders, where he had been trying to force the boy back to rest.

 

“Coworker.” Peter hums, relaxing slowly. Good. He needs rest. He’s just a kid.

 

“It was the spell, by the way.” Tony makes a confused noise. “I can tell you were wondering. It took a little too much out of me.”

 

“I’m sorry.” Peter huffs.

 

“For wanting to save your wife? You don’t have to apologize for that.”

 

"But-" 

 

"No apologies. It happened, but now I'm here, treated." He smiles. "I'm rather tired, is it alright if I-" Peter gestures back to the bed. Tony startles, standing from his chair.

 

"Of course! I think I'd prefer it if you rested, actually." Tony backs out of the room, closing the door behind him. He hesitates, standing outside. What if something happens? Is Peter uncomfortable? Does he need water? 

 

"You don't have to hover like that. If it makes you so nervous, go inside.” A voice chimes from behind. Tony startles, whirling around. Rhodey’s face greets him. “Pepper filled me in on your latest act of stupidity.” Tony’s about to defend himself, but Rhodey plows right over him. “I mean, really, acquiring a child? Never took you for the type, but hey,  you always have something up you're sleeve to completely throw me off my feet." Tony narrows his eyes. 

 

"I'm not hovering."

 

"This," Rhodey gestures to Tony, standing by the door, hand just above the doorknob. "Is definitely hovering. Like, dad hovering. Is he yours? Does Pepper know about this? Oh, who am I kidding, you couldn't hide that from her if you tried-"

 

"No! No, Rhodey, bad. He's not mine, I am not dad hovering and I'm-" Tony fumbles for a moment. Rhodey gives a smug look. "I'm leaving this conversation." He rushes down the hall to get Peter some water. He's been asleep for a couple days, he must need a drink. Much like Tony needs one. Of the acholic sort, but he's got a guest over and it would be impolite to get drunk.

 

Tony's hand hovers over the whiskey anyway. His mind, ever as mean and horrid, replaces it with the image of Peter's doorknob, waiting to be turned, entered. Peter inside, tear tracks down his face from the days where missing his family, wherever they are, for Peter hadn't told him yet, seemed like too much.

 

He pulls his hand away, filling the tall glass with water instead.



Peter loves the city.

 

Well, he loves the development. He loves the town houses packed together as they follow the road up the hill the kingdom is placed on. He loves walking through the garden in the center of the part of the city that is nearest to Mr. Stark's house. He loves the bridges that cross over the waterfalls, splitting the roads in half. The trees that line the roads up to the castle and the restaurants and cafes, watching ships come and go in the harbor and getting coffee on rainy days.

 

Having this many people around us worrying, but as he recovers (Mr. Stark refuses to send him home until he's back to the way he was before.) he finds that the village is really what his aunt always told him it was.

 

Everyone he's met so far on his walks with Mr. Stark has been sweet and caring. 

 

One night, his last, in the guest bedroom of the Stark household, Peter comes to a horrifying realization. 

 

He doesn't want to go back to house in the forest. He wants to stay here. But, of course, he couldn't do that to Mr. Stark, or Pepper, who is every bit as nice and caring as Mr. Stark is. He doesn't want to overstay his welcome. In a way, he feels he already has. 

 

Still, he'll miss breakfast, where Rhodey sometimes appears for coffee and a pancake or two, the sort of domestic feelings one could only get from a witch child floating the surrup across the table and handing the butter over to Mr. Stark at the same time.

 

So, he slips beneath the covers of the most comfortable bed Peter has ever slept in, preparing himself for the final goodbyes tomorrow will bring.



Tony lays awake. Pepper sleeps beside him, which is something Tony envies, because if he could sleep he could stop the constant thoughts that drift around in his mind. Peter leaves tomorrow, and Tony knows he's going to hate it. Peter brings a sort of life into the household that Tony never knew he needed until it was there. But Peter doesn't want to stay. His life is out there, in the woods, not here with Tony. And that's fine. It doesn't bother Tony. Whatever's best for the kid.

 

It's hours before Tony falls into restless sleep.



Tony helps Rhodey adjust the straps for cargo on the horse. He double checks the contents, making sure the packages of food Pepper insisted Peter take for his first few days back home were all there, and Peter’s favorite books from Tony’s study are in the next pocket over. Peter enters the stable, laughing at something Pepper tells him. She spots Tony, then looks back at Peter, holding him in a tight hug. 

 

“I’ll make sure Tony comes by to visit plenty, alright?” Peter nods into her shoulder.

 

“He’d better.” Peter jokes softly, and Pepper laughs. She pulls back, and Rhodey takes her place, clapping Peter on the shoulder. 

 

“Stay out of trouble, kid.” Peter smiles up at him. Tony mounts his own horse, trying to push out the goodbyes.

 

The ride is mostly quiet, which is unusual. Tony wonders if Peter has run out of things to chatter about. Then they pass a blue butterfly, and Peter begins to talk again, which Tony is grateful for.



They arrive sooner than Tony would’ve liked, because Tony hates goodbyes, and he hates how quiet the ride home will be without Peter’s company. 

 

He dismounts his horse, putting a hand on Peter’s shoulder. The kid looks up at him with wide eyes. Tony pulls the kid into a tight hug.

 

“Look after yourself, okay? I don’t want to see you on bedrest for a long while. Forever, actually, I’ve just banned it.” Peter scoffs, but doesn’t pull away.

 

“Forever’s a long time, Mr. Stark.”

 

“Sure is.” Tony finally pulls out of the hug, but keeps a hand on Peter’s shoulder. The kid doesn’t shrug him off, so Tony counts it as a win. “Don’t hesitate to do your magic thing, aright? If you need me, I’ll be there.” He exhales. “I’ll try to visit as soon as I can too, okay? I’ll bring Pepper. We’ll make it a thing.” Peter nods. The sun is high in the sky, and if Tony doesn’t head home now, he won’t make it before nightfall.

 

He finishes off the ties to secure the two horses together, then mounts his horse, waving the kid one last goodbye.

 

“See you soon, kid.”

 

Peter watches him until the treeline obscures Tony completely, and he can’t hear the sounds of hooves against the ground, then stands there some more, before finally heading inside.



Peter’s been waiting all day. He’s been wandering in circles around his living room, food on the dining room table. He and Tony had set up this dinner weeks ago, where Tony would bring Pepper by since the two hadn’t seen each other in a while, because Pepper was busy doing… whatever Pepper did. Peter hasn’t really asked, but She did get Tony to bring him the latest in the Sherlock series, so he knows there will be plenty to talk about. 

 

There’s a knock at the door, shaking Peter from his thoughts. Pepper and Tony stand outside, waiting for Peter to beckon them in. He smiles widely. This is exactly where he belongs.

Notes:

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