Chapter Text
There are instructions in Tony’s message.
No, scratch that. Harley can barely consider them as such since half of the words his mentor — hero , friend, father-figure — say are meant to be connected .
It’s not a coded message. There’s no hidden message in Tony’s recording.
There’s nothing except implied information that Harley should know by the way Tony talks about them but Harley can’t remember them at all. He can’t make sense of them at all.
Sure, he recognizes some things, some of the events Tony mentions that Harley knows he has lived through. He has laughed, cried, and loved through. All the nine yards.
He knows all of that. He remembers all of those memories along with the chuckles, tears, and warm comforting touch of the people he considers a second family.
Except for that one variable that keeps coming up and Harley fails to connect anywhere .
He remembers all of it except for —
“Peter Parker,” Harley mumbles under his breath, pressing the blunt end of his pen to his lower lip and narrowing his eyes as the holographic version of his mentor goes on and on, oblivious as ever.
Harley holds his hand up and curls it into a fist, pausing the video from afar. He knows by the million times he has played the recording that after this story there are no more mentions of the Peter guy that will give Harley any vital information.
Tony’s image is left frozen in mid-roll eye, mouth down on an exaggerated frown that is just so familiar and nostalgic that Harley allows himself to stare a second longer at his mentor’s face before he swallows dryly and waves his hand to the right.
Harley is left in the dark as the message rewinds, the only light from his dorm coming from the eyelids of his personalized Iron Man helmet.
Biting the inside of his cheek, Harley swallows the urge of tracing the words on the side of the helmet, near the temple, like he has done so many times before.
On the good days. On the bad days.
On the — ‘come back, come back, please, Tony, please’ — days.
“Damn it,” Harley murmurs tiredly, pinching the bridge of his nose and shutting his eyes close. It’s a weak try to keep his tears at bay but it’s all he has. “Get it together, Keener. Eyes on the target. You’ve got to solve this shit.”
No one told him to, of course. No, no, because no one knows about this. He hasn’t shared any of the discoveries he has recently found because this is the message Tony left for Harley and him only .
Harley’s a mechanic. He’s an engineer. He invents and connects the dots everywhere he goes, and he’s damn well connecting this goddamn puzzle.
Because for Tony to have mentioned this guy, whoever he was or is, in Harley’s recorded message then he must be someone important. Key element. The missing link. Whatever.
This Peter Guy was important to Tony. To their mishift-family.
To Harley, apparently, if the odd sinking feeling on his gut is anything to go by whenever he hears the guy’s name coming out of Tony’s mouth.
He has already discarded the possibilities for that .
Jealousy. Envy. Bitterness. Resentment. None of them match.
If anything, it feels quite the opposite.
It's unique enough for Harley to begrudgingly recognize it as the one he had experienced while he watched from afar the flower arrangement of Tony’s farewell floating away from the shore.
Harley’s mourning. Grieving. Again.
For someone he doesn’t recognize or remember. For Peter Parker.
Harley sighs heavily, leaning forward. Elbows on his knees, hands on his face, he groans loudly, cursing at the end for good measure.
“NASH, play,” Harley says quietly to the helmet, catching the equally quiet reply from the AI inside the helmet before Tony appears once again in front of him.
And just like before, like always, Tony meets his gaze straight on.
“Hot Potato was on the table, you know,” Tony says as a greeting, wiggling his eyebrows comically at Harley as he lifts his hand and taps his own temple with two fingers. “Iron Tuber and Iron Potato came after I decided it needed to follow tradition, you know?”
Months ago, he’d had to stop the recording right there and then, just so he could bawl his eyes out for the thirty minutes that followed in peace.
Now, Harley limits himself to huff a breath as his chest tightens and his heart wails silently on its own.
“Iron Kid too, of course, until Pepper reminded me that you're no longer eleven, or twelve.” Tony rolls his eyes, shaking his head in faux disappointment. “Who told you to grow up, huh? Tell me, I just wanna talk with them.”
With one last dramatized pointed look, Tony drops the act and chuckles to himself, leaning forward on the backward chair he’s sitting on.
“Eh, Iron Lad is not that bad, anyway.” Tony confesses in a quiet voice, meeting Harley’s gaze. “And I was kidding, by the way. I - I wish I could see you right now, growing up. I wish I had given you the suit earlier, before — well, you know. I know it wouldn’t have made a difference but still.”
Tony pauses, his gaze suddenly distant as he looks to the side and stares at something Harley can’t see before he shakes himself out of it, clears his throat, and turns back to Harley with a weak attempt of a grin in place.
“Bah, none of that matters now, anyway, if you're hearing this.” Tony waves his hand in the air. “But this, kid, this Iron Lad thing is for emergencies only. This is not Iron Man the Sequel, you hear me? You are not Iron Man the Sequel.”
Tony raises a finger at Harley, a pointed look on his face.
“Loud and clear, Old man,” Harley mumbles, humoring himself while reaching for the notebook he had put on the side and his pen. Tony’s not exactly near to the part where he first mentions the Peter Guy but Harley likes to distract himself from what is coming next.
Tony nods, looking satisfied, and lowers his hand. “You understand, right? It’s not because I don’t trust you, kid. Iron Lad is a precaution. Protection. I failed to put an iron armor around the world once, yes, but I’ll be damned if I leave my world unprotected.”
My world. My loved ones. My family.
You, Harley Keener.
“I know,” Harley reassures him like always, voice tight. “I know, Tony. It’s fine.”
Tony nods, as if he had heard him, before he moves forward. He explains the mechanics of the suit that has only seen the day of light once since Pepper gave it to him all those months ago, in the form of a nanotech bracelet.
Harley idly rubs its surface where it rests on his wrist, silent and inactive as always, as he half-listens to Tony walking him through the suit tutorial. Again.
He could skip it. He can skip it.
Harley just doesn’t want to.
It doesn't take long, anyway, for Tony to finally reach the first entry of Peter Guy.
“ — and another thing! Do not, I repeat, do not follow Parker's steps and dare to turn off the Baby Steps protocol. Do you hear me, Keener? That’s a no-no. Big no. Big bad no-no.”
“Big bad no-no,” Harley echoes as he looks down on his notes and goes through the data he has gathered so far, matching it once again with Tony’s words as the man goes on and on.
- Parker Guy has a suit. Iron suit* ??? added: Peter* Parker
- Uses it enough??? or often???
- Teenager ??? Young enough to have baby protocols. Old enough to HAVE baby protocols to begin with. = suit weaponized ???
- Sus: Parker’s my age
- Sus 2: reason why Tony apparently had blood pressure
“ — and I know! I know I’m going to regret saying this at some point but I honestly can’t wait to walk into the lab again and see you two gremlins with yet another destroyed toaster, probably mine, cut in half after another prototype test-drive for that lightsaber of yours. Maybe try destroying Rhodney’s toasters instead of mine for a change?”
- close to tony. enough to have access to tony’s lab without supervision
- builds things. mini genius? fellow mechanic??
- star wars fan = nerd. possible dork. possible otaku.
- likes toast??? maybe??
- my lab partner. maybe fellow intern. acquaintance.
- friend ???
“ — also try to visit more often now, kiddo. You didn’t hear this from me but you know all those video calls in between lab sessions we did weekly? Yeah, those. Guess whose idea was it?
“I swear, the kid would try to act all macho about it but looked like a kicked puppy the next second if he so much as looked at your desk in the lab. Ridiculous. Seriously, he’s seventeen, how come he still has those doe eyes?”
- i visited, so he lives in ny.
- he’s seventeen. was. probably still is
- he has a deadly weapon ??? the puppy eyes??? beware
- doe eyes*?? double beware
“ — I can’t wait for you two to meet Morgan. You better not corrupt her, she’s already too sassy as she is now. I already got a bet going with both Pepper and Rhodey about how Peter will be wrapped around her pinky finger within the first hours of meeting. You, though? You’ve got practice with your sister, so you will survive. Probably. If you pray enough.”
- PROBABLY knows morgan BIG ass PROBABLY
- def knows pepper. most likely
- only child
- poor dumb innocent only child**
“ — I might have to warn you, keep an eye on Morgan when it comes to spiders. You know how Pete’s gig is all about spiders? Well, Morgan ended up having a deep love for them.
“Harley, kid, I have seen her cradling spiders a few times like babies, letting them crawl all over her arm. Ugh, that's on me, I admit. Just - make sure she doesn’t do it in front of Peter, or he will have a stroke. I almost did the first time.”
- peter’s gig is spiders
- he likes spiders ?? ew
- scratch. don't like ??? spiders??
- he’s related to spiders???
- S O M E THING ABOUT SPIDERS
“ — which reminds me, as soon as all this is over, you two are staying over. There, I mean. Home. The Cabin. It’s what I would call our homebase. You guys’ room is still here in the compound but I’d rather have you both under the Cabin’s roof for a while, especially because I have the feeling the world will take a while to reboot.”
- pete guy most likely got dusted. sucks
- dust buddies
- doesn’t know about the cabin
- we share room ??? in the compound
“I got you guys another bunk bed there, by the way, in the Cabin, because I’m an Agent of Chaos, apparently. Listen, I don’t care who gets it this time around but no more pulling the top bed owner’s leg in the middle of the night. I’m talking to you, Keener.”
- shared a bunk bed
- Parker asshole got the top of the compound’s bunk bed
- probably done by cheating
Then, finally, comes the moment when things take a turn along with Harley's stomach.
“You need each other,” Tony says, voice fond and gentle even as he offers a small sad smile. “You two are special. Together? Unstoppable. But you already knew that, didn’t ya?”
- ??? best friend
“So stay together. Be there for each other. I know we’ve always joked about how you’re a mini cowboy version of me, but, if there’s a bright side of that claim, it's that you get a ‘Rhodey’, kid. Just like I did.”
- my Rhodey ???
Tony grins, eyes twinkling playfully. “Quite ironic, I know, since you are Peter’s Rhodey most of the time with the stupid reckless stunts he keeps on pulling, but hey, you guys can switch the roles. The goal is to have each other’s back, you know. To keep each other from dying, from drowning.”
- alt: my tony ???
Tony pauses, a certain look crossing his face before he breathes in and says, “I’m sorry I never told either of you this before but I love you. Both of you.”
Harley shuts his eyes, keeps them close as Tony’s voice surrounds him.
“You’re both my sons. My kids. More than blood or some papers could ever make you.”
- brother
“Though, that being said, it doesn’t mean you hooligans have a free pass to make all of my labs go boom. I upgraded FRIDAY, you know, so have fun trying to override HER and the Hooligans Running Wild protocols I left with her to deal with you two.”
Ah, there’s the roll of eyes. That’s Harley’s cue to cut in, to stop the message from ending, but he finds that he no longer has the energy to pause it, much less stop it.
He’s tired. Drained. Emotionally and mentally.
He misses Tony.
The message continues and Harley knows what’s coming. He’s well aware the message it's reaching its end. He tells himself he’s prepared for it, since it’s not the first time he has both seen and heard Tony’s last message.
But it doesn't matter if it is the first time or the millionth time; his chest still aches and his lip still wobbles when the moment arrives and Tony calls his name.
“Yes, you, hello. One last thing,” Tony says once Harley meets his eyes, greeting him with a hopeful smile. “Live plenty, alright? That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you, kiddo. I’ll make sure you have the chance to do so, I promise.”
And that's it. With a two-finger salute, Tony stands up from his chair and ends the message. Harley is left in the dark once again.
“Alexa, turn on the light,” Harley says hoarsely. He drops his gaze back to his notes once Alexa follows his command, turning the lamp from his desk on.
The words written on his notebook seem to mock him.
Brother. Brother. Brother.
He inhales deeply, holding his breath for a few seconds before he breathes it out slowly through his nose. Alright, back to work.
“Why don’t I remember you, Peter Parker?” Harley asks to his empty dorm room, staring at the name of the boy he doesn't know and yet misses. “Better question; what do I do now with this information?”
He works through his alternatives.
Asking Rhodey, Pepper, or Happy feels like the obvious choice to continue his investigation, but his gut feeling tells him otherwise.
Asking Morgan is an option but, while the five years old is smart enough to know the difference between real people and imaginary friends, he rather not bring the name of a possible stranger while she’s still trying to get used to being surrounded by a lot of people.
He could maybe visit the Cabin and go through some of FRIDAY’s files —
Harley blinks. Once. Twice. And then curses colorfully.
“How the hell did I miss that?” He hisses to himself as fumes with his bracelet, activating it and turning it on with a few quick taps.
The feeling and tickles that come with the nanotech of the suit spreading over his body is still as incredible and uncomfortable as it was the first and last time he tried it on.
“Ugh, is this how fish feel in their tanks?” Harley cringes as soon as his helmet settles and shuts close around his face and head. “Horrible, okay, whatever. Focus, Keener.”
Harley swallows his sudden nerves, wishing he could swipe his hands over his jeans to get rid of the sweat there. While taking a deep breath, Harley taps the side of his helmet and he calls for his AI.
“NASH, you there? Hello?”
“Howdy, partner.”
Hilarious, NASH. Hilarious, Tony.
“No. Horrible. Bad NASH.” Harley deadpans. “We talked about this that one time.”
His AI hums in his ear. “I’m not sure what you mean, Mr. Keener.”
Harley arches an eyebrow. “It’s Harley. And you know what you did.”
“It’s in my code. I can’t change my code .” NASH says, not sounding regretful at all. Harley rolls his eyes and clicks his tongue. “People worked hard on it so I could be the best for you, Mr. Harley.”
“Just Harley, and you literally just dropped the accent, cowboy .”
A pause and then, “That sucks, y’all.”
“I’ll deal with you later. Again.” Harley decides, raising one finger as both promise and threat. “For now, help me track something. I need the location of all of the suits Tony made for his close circle.”
“His family, you mean,” NASH corrects casually. Harley purses his lips but still nods, more to himself than NASH. “FRIDAY is, as always, active on the Cabin but inactive on Mrs.Potts-Stark suit. MARIA is only active on Baby Stark’s helmet while the War Machine suit of Mr. Rhodes is currently active and in use.”
Harley frowns when nothing else follows.
“That’s it? No one else?”
NASH makes a sound, confused. “Those are the only suits active and running at the moment.”
Harley blinks, thinks it over, and asks an alternative, “Are you able to track those that are inactive? Or maybe their last location?”
“Hold,” NASH says and Harley waits, leaning on the edge of his desk. It’s barely a minute before NASH comes with answers. “KAREN is inactive at the moment. She has been so for a few weeks now. It seems like it was done manually, though, since I do not detect or find any damaged entries in the server.”
KAREN, huh?
“She’s gotta be Peter’s AI, right?”
“No, she’s the AI of the other son Mr. Stark unofficially adopted.” Harley takes a double take at the blant sarcasm. Really? Really, Tony? “Yes, KAREN is linked with Peter Parker’s suit. Though, like I said, she’s inactive.”
Harley narrows his eyes, processing the new information as he purses his lips. “Alright, so, you know about Peter Parker. That's what I’m getting from all this.”
“Well, he was partly responsible of my creation, along with Mr. Stark.”
At the fresh news, Harley doesn’t even think about it. It’s all instinct, his body just reacts. His brain doesn’t even process the words properly before he’s spitting them out.
“He was the one who coded all the cowboy references, wasn’t he?”
NASH stays silent for a moment before he gives in with a “Hm, maybe.”
Harley scoffs, reaching for his notebook as he grumbles under his breath and then adds an extra bullet point to his notes.
- annoying ((little???)) brother syndrome
“You're covering for him? Seriously?” Harley rolls his eyes. “You’re my AI, NASH.”
“Snitches get stitches, Harley.”
“ Oh my god .” The laugh that escapes his lips takes him by surprise. Unexpected but not unwelcome.
“How much do you know about Peter Parker, NASH?” Harley inquiries, making a quick walk to his door to make sure it was shut and locked properly before he heads to his bed.
“I’m not sure how many facts I could know more about Peter than you, Harley,” NASH tells him, sounding oddly confused. “If anything, I know more about you from Peter’s conversations from my early test-trials.”
Harley stops by the edge of his bed, furrowing his eyebrow. “What did he say about me?”
“Stuff,” NASH says casually. Nonchalantly. “Good stuff. Would you like to hear some of the entries?”
“Yes,” Harley says before his brain can catch up with his mouth.
Muscle memory. Instinct. Gut feeling.
He wants to take his answer back. Stop. Rewind. His stomach starts to sink with dread all over again —
“Alright, let’s try this again. Entry eleven, Nash-Test five. Once again, this is Peter Parker. NASH, you there?”
“Howdy, Mr. Parker.”
“Oh my god! Oh my god, yes! Yes, yes, it worked! Hah, oh my god. NASH, buddy, you’re a true treasure and I can’t wait for Harley to meet you. Oh, man, his face is going to be freaking priceless!”
Harley lowers himself to the floor.
“ — the guy just wouldn’t know what a good pun is even if it smacked him in the face, you know? And even then, I know he’s lying, okay? I’m, like, eighty-seven percent sure that he shoves me whenever I say them just so I’m forced to look away and he can grin in peace — ”
And listens.