It takes Peter three tries before he’s able to put the suit on after Tony’s death. It takes him another four once he realizes the AI in it is Tony.
Pepper approached him not long after Tony’s death. Her eyes were red, but every other part of her appearance was as carefully composed as always. But when she handed Peter the suit, her hands shook. Her voice, though, was steady when she spoke.
“He wanted you to have this, if ever he… yeah.”
So now Peter’s sitting on the edge of his bed, chest heaving with churning grief, the echo of Tony’s voice still ringing in his ears.
“What’ll it be today, Parker?” Tony’s voice had greeted. And after four tries, Peter was expecting it, but it still didn’t make him any more prepared.
So for awhile, he just sits there.
The AI gives him time, though. There’s a second where Peter thinks, I can’t do this, how could he think doing this was okay?
He takes in another deep breath and stands, heading for his window, and climbs to the roof. Everything is always more clear from up high, a bigger picture you just can’t get from anywhere else.
It takes another hour before he’s able to do anything more than breathe.
His voice shakes when he finally speaks. “Tony?”
“Hey, kid,” the AI responds immediately, and Peter’s chest cracks wide open at that. A sob rises in his throat, but he swallows it down.
“So are we going to fight some criminals or sit in the cold all night?” Tony prompts, and Peter lets out a wet laugh.
“Yeah,” he answers, trying to keep it together. “Yeah. Where to?”
And just like that, they’re a team again.
“Left! Take a left!” Tony’s voice yells at him as he swings wildly through the city in hot pursuit of a mugger.
Peter, in a moment of pure panic and disorientation, takes a right.
“The other left, Pete!” the suit yells at him, sounding exasperated, and Peter quickly backtracks.
It’s been a month since the first night Peter went on patrol with the suit. And even though there’s still a pang in his chest every time he hears Tony’s voice, he pushes it down and lets himself pretend.
“Sorry, sorry!” Peter apologizes.
Once he finally catches up to the man dressed in all black, webbing him up takes almost no time at all. Peter quickly snags the bag of cargo and rifles through it.
“Seriously?” he asks incredulously, staring down at the man now webbed to a trash can. “All that for some Twizzlers and cheap cologne? Wow, your life must be really sad.”
Peter heads back to the store to return the stolen items, hopping from rooftop to rooftop. Just as he gets to his destination, his toe catches on the handle of a metal hatch in the roof, and he falls forward.
“Fuck!” he yells, pitching over the edge of the building. He quickly shoots a web and catches himself, looking around to see if anyone was watching.
Luckily, though, no one seems to have been paying attention. The people of New York are way too used to seeing Spider-Man around to be properly awed anymore.
“Nice, kid,” Tony says wryly, and Peter groans.
“You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?” Peter asks, grimacing.
“I recorded the whole thing,” Tony quips. “Whenever you do something stupid now, I’ll just play this video for you to remind you that you’re a reckless dumbass.”
“Thanks, Tony,” Peter says dryly. “Always good to be humbled.”
“Exactly. What would you do without me?”
I already am without you, a voice in Peter’s head supplies, but Peter shuts it down in favor of saying, “Live in peace, maybe.”
Tony scoffs. “That would be absolutely no fun.”
“For you, maybe,” Peter responds, dropping stolen goods off at the store. “Where to next?”
“Nightclub,” Tony answers without hesitation. “Pretty women.”
“I’m going to mute you,” Peter threatens, but the AI just laughs in his ear.
“You wouldn’t do that. You love me too much.”
Yeah, Peter thinks. I do.
Peter’s back on the roof late one night, dressed in the suit.
“Where are we headed, Pete?” Tony asks, but Peter just shakes his head.
“Nowhere. I just wanted to think,” Peter tells him.
Peter hesitates before he answers. “I just didn’t want to be alone.” Tony doesn’t say anything after that.
These past few months have been much better for him. He’s gotten out more, even hanging out with Ned and MJ on occasion. Every so often, he gets dinner with Pepper and they reminisce. It’s nice. But when he’s not doing that, he’s in the suit.
It’s one of the few times the emptiness left in Tony’s wake doesn’t eat at him.
“It’s been nice,” Peter says finally. “Having you here, I mean.”
Tony takes a moment before responding. When he does, the AI’s voice is uncharacteristically gentle.
“It’s not me, Pete. Not really. Just a piece of tech,” the AI says softly, and the Band Aid that’d been placed over Peter’s grief-cracked soul rips off.
“It’s… no,” Peter protests, shaking his head. “It’s… It’s basically you, right? I mean. It’s close enough.”
“Peter. I’m just an AI,” the voice says firmly, and Peter’s eyes well with tears, not letting himself accept the reality. Because goddammit, it’s much easier to pretend that he’s talking to Tony - the real Tony. Makes his absence seem that much more like a nightmare than a reality.
“But I…” Peter’s voice cracks, words falling from his lips brokenly. “I just want you.”
“I’m sorry, buddy,” Tony’s voice says sadly, and Peter makes a wounded sound from the back of his throat.
“Why?” he gasps. “Why would you put yourself as my AI? Why would you do this to me?” Peter demands desperately, anger and sadness coloring his words.
When the AI speaks again, Tony’s voice is sad.
“It was the only way I knew how to keep protecting you.”
Based on this post made by @floweredantlers
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