"Hey, kid. How ya feelin?" Tony asked, setting down a half-eaten donut and coffee.
"I'm okay."
Tony looked at Bruce and Dr. Strange. "How bad is it?"
"Bruised and cracked ribs, had a concussion, almost burst a lung, and he had some serious blood loss," Bruce replied.
Tony just stared at Peter. "Can I have a moment alone with him?"
Dr. Strange and Bruce nodded, leaving the room.
Tony continued to just stare at Peter.
"Are you mad at me?" Peter asked warily.
Tony's jaw clenched.
"...are you?"
Tony breathed out heavily. "I'm not mad. I just want to know why."
"Why what?"
"Why you jumped off a fucking SKYSCRAPER, Peter!" Tony snapped.
"I, I, I-,"
"You what?"
"I, I don't know."
"Dammit, Peter, that's not an answer."
"I'm sorry," Peter whispered.
Tony pulled his hands through his hair, obviously stressed.
He started waving his hands around and said, "Yeah. Okay. Fine. You don't want to talk about it. I get it." Tony was both distressed and fuming. "Do you remember when I told you that if you die, I feel that would be on me? I still do. I don't want this on my consciousness. Tell me what's going on."
Peter just stared at his hands, voice quivering, and said, "Mr. Stark, I don't know how to tell you."
"Just tell me," Tony said. "Please?"
Peter's anxiety skyrocketed. He didn't want anyone to think less of him because of his secret. He wanted to stay stealth but he didn't want to lie, either.
Peter felt lost, and he felt a panic attack starting. What is May going to say? Is she okay? What about Ned?? MJ? Tony?!
Peter's hands started to sweat, and he wanted to get up and pace. Curse this hospital bed...
His breathing grew ragged and he clutched onto his arms, eyes wide.
He could hear a faint "Peter? Peter?" In the background.
"Are you alright? What's happening?" He heard Tony say.
Peter kept shaking for about five minutes. What is May gonna do? Is she okay?
He tried calming himself. It's okay... Bruce said it's okay... I'm okay...
Peter eventually stopped shaking, yet he was still shivering slightly. His hands were still cold and sweaty. He was silent for a few minutes, and he could feel Tony's worried eyes on him, his hand on Peter's shoulder.
Peter licked his lips and stared at the wall, trying to let the calm spread over him and smother the anxiety.
"Peter?"
"Sorry, Mr. Stark. I don't know what happened."
"Was that an anxiety attack?" Tony asked, concerned.
"More like a panic attack? but... yeah..."
Tony gripped Peter's shoulder. "It's okay, kid. Those aren't always easy."
"Yeah..."
Neither said anything for a long time.
"Are you okay?" Tony finally asked.
Peter nodded. "Yeah. Thanks, by the way."
Tony shrugged it off, but Peter could tell there was something on his mind.
"I wasn't hurt that badly, really. Doctor Banner and Doctor Strange said that most of my bleeding is internal." Peter shrugged. "And you know, that's where the blood is supposed to be."
Tony gave him a look. He sighed. "I'm not sure that's entirely how it works, but... okay."
Peter looked at his hands nervously, biting his lips in anticipation.
"Do you think you can tell me why you did what you did?" Tony asked cautiously, trying to avoid the word suicide.
"I'm..." Peter took a deep breath. "I'm trans, Mr. Stark."
"So you wanna be a chick? Pete, that's fine. I don't care. I've got money. You could've came to me instead and asked to get a boob job or something."
"Actually, that's kinda the opposite of what I want. I want to look like a boy."
"Oh. Uh... well you had me fooled. But, that's cool too, kid. Is... you know-," Tony waved at Peter's body. "So this is why you wanted to kill yourself?"
"Yeah," Peter mumbled.
Tony sat down next to the boy. "Son, let me tell you something. This body? It doesn't define you. I don't care what you were born as, you'll always be Peter to me. You'll always be Spider-Man. You'll never be anything but a boy to me."
"Do you really mean that?"
"No. You'll never be anything but a boy to me, kid. Until you're a man."
Peter's heart skipped a beat. He gave a goofy grin and said, "Thank you."
Tony nodded. "Do you need to talk about it?"
"I don't want to talk about hurting myself... it's not... me. I'm not like that. I haven't been like that..."
Tony set his head in his hands, listening. "Then tell me about this whole trans thing."
"Um, okay. I already have a new legal name and gender marker change on my documents. I got hormones, but I still don't have any surgeries."
"Do you want any?" Tony asked seriously.
"Well... I need top surgery, Mr. Stark. I... I can't live much longer without it..." Peter looked at his hands.
"Maybe I can help you fix that until I convince May to let you have that surgery?"
"I wear a chest binder to flatten everything, and she's already saving up."
"What about other surgeries?" Tony looked directly at him.
"I, uh, well I need top surgery. It's so mentally hard seeing my body without it. But I also... I also kinda, you know, want bottom surgery," Peter said awkwardly.
"Peter?"
"Yeah?" He bit his lip nervously.
"You do realize I'm a billionaire, right?"
"Yeah, but you're also not my dad."
Tony looked oddly stung. "Well, no... but I meant if May signs off, one day maybe we can get you those surgeries."
"Are you kidding me?" Peter asked, eyes hopeful.
"No. But I'm a busy guy, so don't get your hopes up for anytime soon. Until then, I'm putting a binder in your spider-man suit for you. Maybe I can make into a sports bra for when you're fighting." Tony stroked his chin, thinking. "Yeah, that should fit perfectly. If not, tell KAREN and she can loosen it. We can always remove it later on after you get the surgery."
"Seriously?"
"Am I ever not serious?"
"All the time."
"Got me there."
"Thanks again, Mr. Stark."
"Call me Tony."
"Thank you, Mr. Tony."
Tony smiled. "Just Tony."
"Thank you, Tony."
———————————————————
Tony walked into his shop. "FRIDAY, google 'transgender chest binders'."
"Googling 'transgender chest binders'."
Tony searched the web for hours, watching YouTube videos on transitioning, reading articles, and researching.
Tony looked at the screen blearily. He hadn't slept in days. Peter's incident kept him confined to his bed, alcohol clutched in hand, not even the will to work in his shop to distract himself.
It was 3:00 AM, and he popped open the tab of yet another energy drink, throwing the last one over with his pile of used coffee mugs.
He stretched the chest binder out, looking for imperfections. It seemed very constricting, even if that was somewhat the point of it. "FRIDAY, analyze this."
"It seems like it will shrink too much for Mr. Parker to wear after washing."
"You're supposed to hand-wash these things," Tony grumbled to himself, staring at the fabric with tired eyes.
"Mine will be better than that. I want this to be fitted into his suit, FRIDAY. We have to be able to machine wash that thing after battles. And most of his suits are machine washable, and can be dried just fine, as long as they don't have the tech inside. What if I just make it bigger?"
"The fabric will still shrink, sir. This particular fabric isn't suitable for sustainable crime-fighting. Sweat will make this unbearably itchy. Would you like me to google alternative fabrics?"
"Yes."
Tony yawned, looking at the clock. 4:30 AM. He stared at the half-finished chest binder. "No, no, no. Not good enough," he mumbled quietly, scratching his head. "Gahh!" He slammed a fist on the table, annoyed with his lack of ability working with fabric.
He snapped his head up. "That's it!"
Tony quickly searched the web for information on making binders, making sure to go to official pages from companies and brands instead of homemade binders off YouTube and the like.
Tony sighed in relief. "Yes!" He cheered to himself softly, grinning like an idiot.
An hour and a half later, Tony finished making the newest version of the chest binder. He put it inside one of Peter's suits, tapping buttons to lock it in place.
"FRIDAY, begin testing."
At 8:00 in the morning, he had finally completed his nightlong project. Tony felt the binder in his hands, nodding to himself proudly. It would flatten his chest when standing, and morph into a tight sports bra when fighting. Peter's going to love this.
——————————————————
Tony stepped softly into the MedLab, making sure not to wake the young boy. He placed a brown paper bag next to his bed.
Tony turned the bag so Peter could read it when he woke. It said: Heard it's not healthy to fight in a binder. -T.S.
He hoped this new binder would make the boy happy, and he'd be back to fighting crime in a safer manner.
Tony smiled at him sadly, hoping Peter's life would be better soon. He kissed the top of his head, pushing Peter's hair out of his eyes. He left the room without a word, closing the door quietly behind him.