@ircnhrt
It was strange walking past the labs, the workshops, the interns’ stations. That had been him once; he’d thought it would be him again. Pristine white lab coats and gleaming hallways and bottomless wells of money instead of secondhand salvaged materials and web fluid made on a literal shoestring budget. (What could he make with access to resources like this?) Maybe it could be him again one day, his face more lined and hair streaked with more gray than in that first hopeful ID photo. If he was lucky enough to live that long.
Peter had come to Stark Tower to see Tony, but he’d decided to wander on the way out, and no one had kicked him out yet. He heard tinkering from inside the workshop, so he followed the sound to find a young woman working on what looked like a smashed-up set of Iron Man armor. “Oy vey.” He let out a slow exhale at the sight. “Rough night? Let me guess--Galactus? Or bad run on the training course?”