Tony intercepted Peter on his way home from school.
That's not entirely accurate; Tony simply parked his sports car across the street from the high school in Queens.
The sports car engine was idling at a low RPM, the windows were half-rolled down, and the early autumn wind blew fallen sycamore leaves from the street into the car.
Tony leaned back in his seat, his fingertips unconsciously stroking the steering wheel, his mind far from calm.
He wasn't really good at this kind of heart-to-heart talk with an elder. He'd spent his whole life relying on technology and sarcasm to solve problems, so sitting here waiting for a fifteen-year-old boy was an awkward thing for him.
He knew Peter's intentions were not wrong, but that reckless passion was too much like his own past.
He came here today not to reprimand the child, nor simply to return the armor to him.
He didn't want to watch this child stumble into the same pitfall he himself had fallen into.
About seven or eight minutes after the school bell rang, Peter Parker walked out of the school gate with his backpack on, his steps dragging, and one of his shoelaces was untied. When he saw Tony, he was clearly stunned for a moment, his steps faltered, and then he continued walking, only slowing down as he passed Tony.
"Get in the car." Tony took off his sunglasses and tilted his head towards the passenger seat.
Peter opened his mouth, but Tony had already opened the car door and sat back in the driver's seat, the engine roaring low on the street corner.
Peter hesitated for a moment, then opened the passenger door and got in.
Tony didn't start the car immediately.
He sat in the driver's seat, his fingers tapping lightly on the steering wheel, as if he were organizing his thoughts.
Students poured out of the school gate in twos and threes, and a few cast curious glances toward the sports car, but no one recognized that the person sitting in the driver's seat was Tony Stark.
He placed his schoolbag on his lap, clasped his hands on top of it, and sat up straight as if he were going to take an exam he was completely unprepared for.
"Your log..."
Tony finally spoke, his tone not exactly gentle, but lacking the aggressive edge he usually displayed when arguing with Ivan in the lab, "Why haven't you been posting lately?"
Peter's fingers twitched slightly on the bag strap. "... I haven't been out lately."
"Didn't go out?"
"Um."
"Because I confiscated your new armor?"
Peter's gaze fell on the blue-glowing reactor model on the dashboard, and he pursed his lips without saying a word.
Tony turned to look at him.
From this angle, you can see Peter's drooping eyelashes and the acne that hasn't completely disappeared on the bridge of his nose.
It's not that I don't trust you.
Tony's voice was a little softer than before. He took his hands off the steering wheel and turned slightly towards the passenger seat.
"I know your training stats have been improving, and your mobility assessment has increased by several points since last month. I know your reaction speed is top-notch among superhumans your age."
I'm not not replying to your messages because I think you're not good enough for me.
It's because I was thinking that maybe I should have taught you myself from the beginning, instead of just handing you the armor and letting you figure it out on your own. That was my mistake."
Peter looked up at him, a little lost in thought. He had probably rehearsed Tony's lecture to him countless times in his mind: you don't deserve it, you're not good enough, you're a huge disappointment, but he hadn't rehearsed this particular version.
In this version, Tony isn't lecturing; he's apologizing.
Your problem isn't that you're not qualified.
Tony looked at him. "Your problem is you haven't learned how to stop. I did a lot of stupid things at your age, and it took me a long time to pay for them. You're better than me; you're not arrogant, not conceited, and don't try to put yourself at the center of the world. Your idea is to just jump in and do whatever you want, but that idea comes at a price. You almost got yourself killed on the ferry. If I hadn't been there that day, do you know what would have happened?"
"I know," Peter said softly.
"Then why did you still go?"
"Because if I didn't go, there would be no one to help those passengers." He paused for a moment, "That's what I was thinking at the time."
Tony looked at him, silent for a long time. Looking into those eyes, still pure and untouched by war and defeat, he suddenly realized that this boy's dictionary contained only the phrase, "With great power comes great responsibility." He had been figuring this out himself. If he could help, he would. If he didn't know how, he would just do it.
"Alright then."
Tony leaned back in his chair, then suddenly changed his tone, "Since you're going to learn, let's start from the beginning. I'll teach you. We'll begin with the basic functions of the armor, every mode, every weapon system, and every emergency response plan. How about that?"
Peter looked at him, his lips moved several times, and then he nodded vigorously.
"Then let's go."
Tony started the engine, the roar of the sports car echoing through the streets of Queens. Peter bent down to fasten his seatbelt, then put his backpack at his feet and sat up straight. "You don't have any other plans this afternoon, do you?"
"No. School ended early today. I was planning to do my homework at home, physics and math, not much, probably in an hour and a half. But I can do the physics homework later, I've already previewed today's lessons, no problem." Peter started and didn't stop, "So where are we going to train? The SSC training base? Or your private lab in New York? I've been there once before but didn't pay much attention to the training facilities, do I need to bring any equipment? You haven't returned my armor yet, so..."
"My private lab. The armor's already there." Tony stepped on the gas, a smirk involuntarily creeping onto his face. "Shut up. Don't mutter in the car."
Peter immediately shut his mouth. After about two or three seconds, he cautiously asked again, "May I ask a question?"
"... ask."
"Did any of your classmates see you while you were waiting for me? The sports car parked on the street corner was quite conspicuous, and the way you leaned against the car door looked really cool... If you mind, I can explain it to my classmates tomorrow..."
Peter.
"Exist."
"Shut up."
When they arrived at the lab, Tony didn't just hand the armor to Peter and let him familiarize himself with it, as he usually did.
He had Peter change into his training suit first, then led him to the holographic projection platform in the center of the laboratory. Peter's armor, which had been forcibly retrieved, had been moved out of the storage compartment and was hovering above the platform. Each piece of armor had been disassembled into individual components, slowly rotating around the central energy core.
"These are all the system modules your suit currently has." Tony raised his hand and swiped open the holographic interface, revealing a dense array of data streams and functional module diagrams around them. "Approximately how much do you know now?"
"Uh... I'm pretty familiar with the basic web-launching modes, there are about seven or eight of them. I've used the reconnaissance mode a few times. I didn't have time to switch to the aerial maneuvering mode at the dock last time, so..."
The next few hours passed smoothly and busily in the lab. Peter absorbed every detail Tony taught him like a sponge.
Which modes can be quickly switched during combat, which modes require pre-warm-up, and which modes should be locked in the secondary authorization menu to avoid accidental activation. Tony's teaching style, like everything he does, is direct, demanding, fast-paced, and interspersed with a lot of Stark- style sarcasm.
"Not bad. Next one."
The training lasted for several hours. The setting sun shone through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a soft, warm orange hue over the cool light of the holographic screen.
Peter sat by the training table, sipping a sports drink JARVIS had just brought him; the lining of his armor was already soaked with sweat. Tony leaned against the opposite training table, his coffee cup already refilled several times.
"Do you really think I can get a permanent position?" Peter suddenly asked, his voice not loud, as if this question had been swirling in his mind for a long time and had finally found a suitable outlet.
Tony glanced at him. Peter was looking down at his fingers holding the sports drink cup; his hands were still trembling slightly, the muscles still contracting involuntarily after several hours of continuous training.
Tony remembered what Lynn had told him a long time ago, "No one can predict when an accident will happen. I've had my share of accidents too."
"Once you've practiced all these modes to the point where you can operate them with your eyes closed," Tony said, "We'll talk about this again."
Tony was silent for a few seconds after saying that.
He held his coffee cup, looking at Peter's hands, which were still trembling slightly.
Technically, the kid was learning much faster than he expected. But Tony knew that technology was never the biggest problem.
The biggest problem is mindset—the mindset that made Peter recklessly rush towards the out-of-control weapon on the ferry, the impulse that made him immediately pounce on any arms deal he saw, and the instinct that made him feel he had to shoulder all the responsibility alone. And these things can't be solved simply by getting familiar with the armor's functions.
"You've learned a lot about the technical aspects today. Switching modes, locking permissions, and emergency escape—you just need to practice until they become muscle memory."
He placed the coffee cup on the table beside him, turned to face Peter, and dropped the half-joking, half-sarcastic tone he had used during the lecture. "But there's one more thing, more important than all of these combined."
Peter looked up at him, his sports drink cup resting on his knee, his fingers unconsciously tightening.
"Your armor has many functions. Reconnaissance mode allows you to detect threats in advance, enhanced attack mode allows you to deal with heavily armored targets, and aerial maneuver mode allows you to reach the battlefield in the shortest possible time. But there is one thing that this armor can never do for you, and that is to think clearly about what you are going to face before you rush out."
Tony crossed his arms over his chest. "When you were at the dock, did you consider that the energy cores of those weapons might overload? When you were on the ferry, did you consider that the alien weapons might malfunction and cut the ship in two? If you did consider these things, would you still have rushed on board?"
Peter opened his mouth, then closed it again. He wanted to say that he hadn't had time to think about it, but he knew that wasn't the right answer.
It wasn't because he didn't have time, but because he hadn't even thought about it. When he saw someone in need of help, his body acted before his brain. This was his greatest strength, and also his greatest weakness.
I don't want you to become a timid person.
Tony softened his tone, probably realizing he'd been a bit too harsh. "I'm telling you the difference between a hero and a brute. A brute rushes in when danger strikes, a hero assesses the situation before charging in. That's not cowardice, it's responsibility. Responsibility for your own life, and responsibility for those you couldn't protect. You don't need to run through all the data in a fraction of a second like JARVIS, but you should at least ask yourself this: If I make a mistake, how badly will things go? Who will clean up this mess?"
Peter remained silent for a long while. The sports drink cup was slightly deformed in his hand, and the water droplets condensed on the plastic cup slid down his fingers.
He looked down at his still slightly trembling hands, then slowly spoke, his voice much softer than before. "I'd never thought about this before. I just felt: if I don't go, no one else will."
"The idea itself isn't wrong. The problem is that you didn't think about it at all."
Tony bent down and picked up a holographic projection module from the table, gently tossing it to Peter. "You've joined a team, not a lone wolf. That means you need to know when to charge in and when to call for backup. You contacted me, and I told you to stay out of it, but you insisted on interfering. Didn't you consider that we're also investigating you privately?"
"... No."
"If you don't know what to do, ask first. This is an order, not advice. I'm not telling you to hide behind others; I'm telling you that a true hero doesn't have to shoulder everything alone. Sometimes, admitting that you can't handle it all by yourself is the greatest courage."
Peter remained silent for a long time, then nodded slightly.
By the time training ended, the sun had completely sunk into the Manhattan skyline.
Only a few automatically adjusting lights remained in the laboratory, emitting a soft white glow.
Peter changed back into casual clothes, slung his backpack over his shoulder, and stood at the laboratory door, watching the red and blue suit of armor being slowly stored into the armor bay.
"Go back and get some rest. Don't run around after school tomorrow, come back to practice. Remember! Your armor isn't your weapon, your brain is."
"Yes, Mr. Stark." The smile on Peter's lips was finally no longer the cautious one it had been before.
He nodded vigorously, then turned and walked towards the end of the corridor. After walking about ten steps, he glanced back at the direction of the laboratory. Tony was still leaning against the door frame, his coffee cup on the control panel beside him, watching his back. There was scrutiny, expectation, and a deeply suppressed gentleness in that gaze.
Peter looked up at Tony, and the smile on his lips slowly widened.
Tony didn't look at him, but simply walked towards the door with his coffee cup in hand, waving goodbye to Peter with his back turned.
Don't practice too late. You have class tomorrow. Here's your armor back.
"Okay, Mr. Stark. Thank you. I'll practice hard, and I'm really, really sorry for the explosion... I'll definitely figure out all the modes in the future." Once Peter started talking, he couldn't stop.
"Shut up, Peter."
"Yes. I'm already shut up. Shut up right now. Now..."