If They Knew All About You

Currently Unavailable

[author's note: For those of you who have skipped the last chapter:

Tony got severely injured in the fight against Captain America and the Winter Soldier in Siberia. While he lies alone in the bunker trapped in his suit with no way to call for help and nobody out there who could save him. He thinks of Rhodey, his son as well as Peter. He fights against symptoms of a concussion but ends up passing out.]

###

It was a bit of a miserable day in New York City. Not that Peter minded the rain all that much. It was a nice relief from the heat they had endured for most of the month and it was only June. It made riding the subway somewhat bearable. He was leaning against a grabpole, eyes focused on the raindrops that were pushed around by a mix of gravity and the airflow as the train rolled towards Manhattan. It helped to keep his senses in check, the focus on one single thing just like Mr. Stark had told him to practice. It helped to shut out the voices around him. Or at least drowned them out enough to downgrade them to bearable background noise. The number one topic people chatted about remained the same that it had been for days: the Avengers. Perspectives had changed a bit, become a little more measured. People knew now that a bunch of them were in custody. That Iron Man, War Machine, Black Panther and Vision had gone out there and fought the Rouges as they had been dubbed. He hadn't heard the Widow mentioned by anyone, which was odd.

But none of these people knew what the price for all of that had been. None of them had an inkling of how severe Colonel Rhodes had been injured in the process. Nor did Peter, really. He had no idea what had actually happened. How fast the man would recover.

Peter had been waiting in his hotel room in Leipzig, waiting for Mr. Stark to tell him where to go. For someone to tell him what to do next. He hadn't heard from Mr. Stark at all since he had told Peter to stand down at the airport. Maybe he shouldn't have left? Maybe Mr. Stark thought that he had run out on him? Had he come back and Peter had just been gone? Maybe it was something else entirely. Maybe the man had not—

Then the door to his hotel room had swung open and his mentor strode in, was quick to close the door behind him.

"Mr. Stark!" Peter had an urge to rush towards the man, to make sure that he was alright. That feeling of dread that had lingered around the airport still persistent in his very bones.

"Pete. You alright?"

The man looked exhausted, limbs stiff, body moving not as smoothly as he usually did. But it was his face that held most of the pain, his eyes deeper and darker than usual.

"I'm... yeah... yeah, I'm okay." He rubbed a hand awkwardly over his arm. His energy was still flat and he had caught a few bruises, a bit of a headache from that last fall. Other than that though he was okay.

"You got out okay? Nobody saw you?"

"No. I... no, nobody saw me."

Mr. Stark gave a short nod. "Good. Good thinking, kid."

"I..." Peter frowned. Had he not talked to the Widow yet? "It, well... It was the Black Widow. She told me to go. I mean, I was trying to talk to you, but the comm was off and I couldn't—"

"Natasha talked to you?" Mr. Stark's gaze was straight on him, eyebrows closely knitted together. "What did she say?"

Peter blinked. "She just told me that the police were on their way and that I should get out."

"That's it?" His voice was sharp, too sharp.

"I... She said to leave. I tried to talk to you, but she said you were busy and that if I stayed Ross was gonna interview me and you'd have more explaining to do."