Bruised But Not Broken - Irondad/spiderson

So it begins

"Mr Parker, How nice of you to return my calls." The Billionaire sarcastically splayed.

'Uh- uhm", I cough out.

"you're in my room?"

"No, duh." Mr Stark retaliated and rolled his eyes.

"so kid, the calls, messages. Frankly, being who I am, I don't usually get left on reading, especially by teenagers in big trouble." He continued

I swallowed the massive lump forming in my throat and wiped off my sweaty hands on the legs of my suit.

"S-sir, I uhm-"

"zip it underoos. The adult is talking," he said sternly while grabbing a web dissolver from my nightstand and pouring it on his hand. He stood up and straightened his dark suit while looking in the body-length mirror on my wall.

"So let me get this straight", he spoke firmly, turning to face me.

"you go out as this little vigilante while I'm supposed to look after you for the weekend. Get shot! Then proceed to not tell me."

This was spoken with a hint of rage in Tony's voice while slowly stepping towards the teen, who was nervously shaking, taking more steps towards the door. Water brimming in his eyes, but he found the strength to hold them back a little longer.

"Then after I take care of you, surgically, saving your life. You leave my tower and don't return my calls. I almost forgot, and you skipped a week's internship." I had nothing to say back to Mr Stark. I already knew I messed it all up. I backed up as the man towered over me; one more step back, I tripped backwards on a shoe and grasped the wall for support.

"M-Mr Stark, Sir, I'm sorry; I know I messed up. I- " I stumble out before being cut off.

"Messed up? Messed up. Kid, you almost died. That's a lot more than messing up. Do you have any idea how that would have reflected on me? I almost fired you from being an intern. Almost. Then you dare to not show up and make Happy come here every day looking for you." Mr Stark coldly speaks and walks past me into the hallway and down to the kitchen, starting to open the cupboards.

"Have you at least eaten dinner yet? It's late?"

I shake my head no in response as I watch Mr Stark.

My jumper was still half off, exposing the stitched wound on my shoulder, still red and swollen, and worst of all, he could see my ribs. My bony, no-good ribs are sticking out through my skin. A gaunt figure, weak.

I can see now that the rage has left Mr Stark, but he's still upset. After grabbing a box of pasta, a pot, and other various stuff, he looks up at me standing in the hallway.

"Jesus, kid, do you even eat." He examined