Chapter Text
Peter had no idea what to expect when he got into the car, but he certainly wouldn’t have guessed that Colonel James Rhodes would be sitting in the front seat. As soon as he and the driver heard the car door open, they halted their conversation.
"That was quick, we weren’t expecting you until one," the driver said, turning his head.
When he turned completely, he realized that the person who had gotten into the back seat wasn’t Tony at all.
"Uh, good afternoon, Mr. Stark told me to come here," Peter said, glancing between the two men.
"Oh yeah? And who exactly are you, kid?" the colonel asked, surprised but still polite. His voice was warm and friendly, and the smile on his face gave Peter some reassurance.
"I’m Peter. I know Mr. Stark."
"Hm," muttered the not-so-cheerful man whose name, 'Happy', was possibly the most misleading name of all time. "Typical Tony."
James chuckled, turning to Peter and explaining:
"Tony loves doing things that no one expects. Anyway, nice to meet you. You must be special if Stark let you in here. He doesn’t even let the Avengers in sometimes, and he’s known them for years."
"Yeah," Peter grimaced, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "There was an… unexpected conflict. Kind of because of me."
"I doubt that, kid. The docks always turn into a fight. It’s an ongoing tradition that never seems to end."
Peter relaxed, sinking into the soft, warm seat. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been in a car, but he must have grown a lot since then—now he could actually see out the window.
Speaking of what was outside the window, in the distance, Peter spotted Mr. Stark, yelling and pointing at something to the Avengers in the building. He was gesturing wildly with anger, his face turned red. Finally, he slammed a door shut and kicked a clump of grass, breathing heavily. Unaware that Peter was watching through the tinted windows, he took a few deep breaths, then, with a now-pleasant smile, hurried over to the car.
Tony opened the door, leaning down toward Peter.
"How are you, buddy?" he asked in a soft, cooing tone. His previous anger had vanished. He focused all his attention on the boy, scanning him for visible injuries. Seeing none, he let out a relieved sigh.
"Nothing serious happened, Mr. Stark," Peter said unconvincingly. He flinched slightly as Tony touched his forehead to check his temperature.
"Rhodey, Happy, take him to the medical wing in the tower. Have FRI scan him, and let Bruce examine him. My guess - bruised ribs and a developing flu."
"Got it, Tones," Rhodey reassured his friend, glancing at Peter with newfound concern now that he knew the boy needed urgent medical attention.
"Thanks. Hurry, if you can," Tony said, never taking his eyes off Peter. "And you, young man, buckle up and behave. I should be at the tower shortly after you."
Tony ruffled the boy’s hair and shut the door. Before he could step away, the car sped off with a screech of tires. Peter watched as Tony grew smaller in the distance, then turned to the men in the front seats.
"It’s a long ride ahead, kid. Why don’t you tell us a little about yourself? I need to know who this kid is that Tony cares so much about."
***
When the car pulled into the underground garage of the tower, Peter was speechless. The Avengers Tower was massive and modern, but it was nothing compared to its interior.
A garage, which in most homes became an extra storage space or a cluttered mess, here was spotless and filled with the most expensive cars - some of them weren’t even on the market yet.
In the corner, above a table, a hologram flickered, catching Peter’s interest. He started walking toward it, but the colonel gently grabbed his arm, stopping him.
"This way, kid," he said, gesturing to the center of the room, where an elevator awaited.
Peter glanced longingly at the hologram before following them to the elevator. The three of them stepped inside, waiting as it moved to the correct floor. Peter found it odd that there were no buttons, yet the elevator knew exactly where to go.
They exited into a large medical wing, emerging at a reception desk where a woman sat, entering data into a computer. Other than them, the area was empty. Five hospital rooms stood vacant, and the doctors were on a coffee break. Compared to the usual overcrowded hospitals where there were never enough beds, this place felt utopian.
A sense of unease crept into Peter. He had bad memories of hospitals, ones deeply ingrained in his mind. He stopped in the middle of the hallway, frozen by growing anxiety. He fought the urge to run away, feeling ashamed when he noticed Happy watching him with sympathy.
"No one’s going to hurt you here," Happy reassured him, offering a comforting smile. "No one untrustworthy gets into this tower. Tony screens all his employees."
Peter smiled, grateful for the words of comfort, but deep down, his anxiety remained.
Rhodey finished speaking with the receptionist, who pointed him to the correct room.
"Come on, kid. The doctor will be here soon," the colonel said, motioning for Peter to follow.
They entered a standard examination room with three chairs - two for patients, one for the doctor. A computer sat on the desk, and a medical bed occupied the corner. The room was sterile and painted white, making it appear even larger. They didn’t have to wait long before the doctor arrived.
"Hey, Pete. I’m Dr. Smith," greeted a middle-aged Black man in a white coat, a stethoscope draped around his neck. "I’m not a pediatrician, but I’m guessing you’re nearly a man by now, so we’ll get along just fine," he added with a wink. "Do you mind if we talk alone? If it makes you uncomfortable, of course, these gentlemen can stay."
"Uh, I don’t mind," Peter said, slightly embarrassed.
He didn’t want the men to feel like he was kicking them out, but he could handle this on his own.
"Great. We’ll be outside," Happy said, sounding relieved as he exited the room.
Rhodey followed, closing the door behind him.
"Alright, let’s get started. I just received your injury report, and I’d like to examine you. Please sit on the medical bed and remove your sweaters and shirt so I can listen to your breathing."
Peter hesitated but obeyed, peeling off layers until his chest was bare. He sat down, shivering slightly when the cold stethoscope touched his skin. He followed instructions, inhaling and exhaling as told, and the doctor seemed satisfied.
"Alright, now I’ll weigh and measure you."
The checkup lasted about twenty minutes. Once all tests were done, the doctor sent Peter to the hallway with a lollipop and called the men back inside.
Peter wasn’t sure why he had to leave, but he suspected the news wasn’t good. Adults hated delivering bad news to kids.
He waited, staring at nothing, until the sound of the elevator caught his attention. He turned his head and saw a red-haired woman step into the hallway, followed closely by Tony. His eyes widened in surprise as they both looked at him and immediately approached.
"Oh, you poor thing!" the woman exclaimed, pulling him into a hug. Peter froze in shock. "Tony told me what happened. You poor child."
As she pulled away, Tony introduced them.
"Pete, this is my wife, Pepper. I told her about you. She decided she 'had' to come see you, and I have no say in the matter."
Peter found Pepper beautiful. And after that hug, he also felt warmth in his heart.
"Don’t exaggerate. I let you make a decision or two when I’m in a good mood."
Tony burst into laughter, and the joy spread to all three of them.
"If I may interrupt, Sir," FRI chimed in, "the doctor has a diagnosis."
"Send it to me, FRI. I’ll read it later. Right now, I need to make sure Pep doesn’t hug the kid to death."
"I'm afraid, Sir, that the injuries are far more severe than they appear. Young Peter needs immediate surgery."
***
Saying that Tony was angry would be an understatement. He was absolutely furious beyond measure. The list of injuries he received from Peter’s doctor was long and broke his heart. He didn’t have the courage to show it to Pepper because she might not be able to handle it. It was that bad.
The worst and most urgent included a bladder infection, fluid in the lungs, a broken rib, several stab wounds, a developing flu, severe malnutrition, a poorly healed broken leg that caused him to limp, and hypothermia. That was just the tip of the iceberg - he didn’t even mention the smaller injuries like bruises under his clothes or contusions.
Now, he sat by Peter’s hospital bed, where the boy had to spend his first night in the Tower. Tony didn’t know what kind of grand welcome he had expected for the kid, but it certainly wasn’t a stay in the medical wing for at least the next few days.
The silver lining was that they weren’t in a rush - Peter had a roof over his head and meals carefully planned by a dietitian. The kid was so malnourished that he couldn’t eat just anything because his stomach could literally rupture.
Sitting by the boy’s bed in the dim glow of the bedside lamp, running his fingers through the soft curls on Peter’s head, Tony sighed heavily. Peter deserved a better fate. No kid should be this battered. Whatever cruelty the world had inflicted on him, Tony promised himself he would make it right.