**By popular demand (and a sudden break in my writer's block for this topic in the middle of the night) I have part 2!! Enjoy!**

Tony flew through cold, New York air as fast as he could, thrusters and lungs straining against the wind and anxiety pressing on the man.

Get there, get there, get there. The mantra was pounding through his head, keeping him going.

FRIDAY flashed with coordinates, suggesting Tony change direction slightly.

Get there, get there, get there. Peter, Peter, Peter. Save my son, save my son, save my-

Tony almost shook out of flight at the last thought that went through his head. Was that really how he saw Peter? Was he even ready to admit that?

Was he even ready to be someone's dad?

There was no time to think about that now, not when he might be too late to act on any of it. "FRIDAY," Tony commanded. "Thrusters to 100%"

"Sir, thrusters are at 100%."

"Then go to 110%" He knew that was impossible, mathematically, but he was desperate to get closer to his boy. Save him.

Save him, save him, save him.

The city below the man whizzed past, the lights of the town flashing by. Soon enough, Tony was out past the downtown, past the industrial part of town, and past the docks. There were little sparks of fire littering the beach, and there, in the middle of all of it, was a dot of red and blue.

Tony dove towards the sand, letting the suit fold away from his body a few feet above the ground and jumping down to his knees.

"Peter!" The teen was breathing shallowly, his chest barely rising and falling. Tony pulled the boy into his lap, quickly assessing everything that was wrong with the boy.

Beyond the burns and bloodied cuts and scrapes, there was a quickly spreading stain of blood, a piece of pipe sticking out from the boy's stomach. Rubble was all around, some of it cutting into the teen's legs and arms, but none of it was as bad as his stomach.

"Okay, this is okay, you're going to be okay."

Peter's eyes fluttered open. "M's'r St'rk?"

His mouth was stained with red, his words were slurred with blood.

"I'm right here, kid," Tony reassured, quickly tearing off parts of his shirt to bandage some of the smaller wounds. "I'm going to get you home, okay? We'll go see Bruce, you can tell him about the report you gave on his book!"

Peter's head lolled, but he didn't fall back asleep. "The teacher said it was really good."

"I know," Tony said. "I heard the message you left Happy, he forwarded it to me."

Peter couldn't even blush he was so tired and drained. "I din' know you listened to those."

"Of course I do, Pete. You're my personal intern." Tony wanted to say more, but it wasn't the time. It wasn't the right time.

Peter was finally as patched up as Tony could get him, so the billionaire lifted him carefully and let the Iron suit close around his legs and lift him off the sand.

The ride back to the tower seemed quicker, but maybe that was because Peter was tucked safely in Tony's arms, or because it was punctuated with the teen's rambled stories and soft chuckles and breathing, he was breathing.

Each shaking, shallow, soft breath meant the teen was alive.

"Bruce!" Tony shouted, the Iron suit retracting as he hit the helipad of the med-bay.

The scientist was bleary eyed and confused as he stumbled out into the cold air, but as soon as he saw the limp figure of Peter, oh, God, Peter...

"Get him on a gurney, I need saline for flushing, get me a suture kit!" The doctor yelled for nurses and supplies, taking in the state of the super-spider. He grabbed a pair of medical scissors, practically rushing to cut the home-made suit off the boy.

"Tony," Bruce barked. "Get his arms. We don't want him pulling away when we get this metal out of stomach." Tony lurched forward, holding the teen with strong, yet gentle, hands.

"Got him."

Bruce pulled the metal out, ignoring the scream of pain that pushed through Peter's mouth and the way he almost jerked out of Tony's hands.

After that, it was all easy. It was all soap and saline, iodine, stitches, ointment, gauze.

Tony paced outside the little examination room where Bruce was finishing up with Peter. The rush of adrenaline had worn off hours ago, leaving Tony wrecked. His emotions were all over the place, the phone call and his thoughts and his fear was all mixed up and swirling around his head.

My intern, my son, my intern, my son.

Tony paced faster, his head in his hands, fingers clenched tightly around his hair.

"Tones, Pepper will lose it if you rip out your hair there."

The worried man spun around. Bruce was leaned against the wall of the hall, a small smirk on his face.

"You good?" Tony nodded tightly, his lips pressed together firmly.

"You don't look good."

Tony shook his head, letting out a shuddering breath. "It's just... He called me. He called me to check in. Said he was fine. Said he loved me. Said he loved me, like I was his dad or uncle or something."

Bruce nodded knowingly. "He told me while I was stitching him up. The IV really woke him up, he was babbling like crazy."

Tony smiled a little. "Sounds about right."

They stood awkwardly for a second, neither one entirely sure of what to say next. Finally, Bruce set a hand on his friend's shoulder and spoke up.

"Go talk to him. I know you are afraid of being like Howard, I know you didn't see this coming, but I can tell you that you're nothing like Howard. You're changed, better, happier, more responsible and mature and grown up."

"Bet you never thought you'd see that," Tony chuckled.

"No, I really didn't. But Peter made it happen and he loves you and he knows you're the best man to be."

Tony pretended that small tears weren't tracking down his cheeks. He nodded at his friend, keeping his head low and his face hidden, then headed in to see his kid.

"Hi, Mister Stark," Peter said, his voice only slightly less bubbly than usual.

"Hey, Underoos."

"Thanks for coming to get me, you didn't have to. I know you get busy."

Tony scoffed lightly. "Don't you dare say that I am busy. You know what I was doing when you called?" Peter shook his head. "I was coding. I was coding a goddamn box for Pepper, a new office safe."

"That seems important to me," Peter joked, his face drawing up in a glinting smile.

"Peter, this is serious!" Tony's voice raised, the fear and pain bubbling up and masquerading as anger. "Why did you call me? Why did you tell me everything was fine? Why didn't you ask me to come get you so I could tell you that I love you, that you're my son, that I live for your smile and laugh and voice-mails? Why didn't you tell me you loved me earlier, too, when you weren't bleeding and dying and-"

Tony's voice broke, his tears finally spilling over his eyes and down his cheeks in rivulets. He collapsed on a chair next to the hospital bed.

Peter reached out, his fingertips barely grazing over the older man's arm as he tried to catch his hand.

"I called you because I knew you were mad, but I needed you to know that I love you."

Tony looked up, eyes sparkling in the harsh, florescent lights. "Getting mad about their son's safety is what a dad does."

Peter's eyes watered, his greatest wish granted without even having to ask. "Really?"

"Really, really. I'm not mad at you, Pete. I was never mad. Sometimes when I get scared, I let it out as anger, and you really scared me. You're just so... You're so good. You're so dedicated to keeping people safe, saving the world, and being a hero, you just rush into things. It scares me. I don't want you- I can't see you getting hurt. I just can't."

The teen didn't know what to say. He didn't have anything to say.

"I can't lose you."

Peter blinked slowly. "You won't lose me. I'm a pretty resilient guy."

Tony chuckled, the smile on his face looking strange and out of place with the tears still clinging to his cheeks. "You really are, kiddo. You're one of the strongest people I've ever known."

"I learned from the best," the teen whispered, hands shaking slightly. "Dad."

Tony brought Peter into a hug without even thinking about it. They stayed like that a long time, just holding one another.

And if Bruce came in hours later to check on the IV and took a picture of his best friend and the teen, asleep in one another's arms, he didn't ever mention it again to anyone.