Peter's words hit Tony like a punch to the gut. He lowered his head, wondering how far he could sink if the earth chose to swallow him whole where he stood.

Peter was here, away from his home, his aunt, his friends, his regular creature comforts. Of course he'd be scared. Confused. He may have been a superhero, but he was still sixteen years old. A teenager could only handle so much. And, in all his own pain, he hadn't stopped a moment to consider what Peter must have been going through. Maybe he had told himself he was keeping his distance for Peter's sake, but deep down, there were fewer times where Tony Stark considered himself such an utter failure.

He was rooted to the spot by a rapidly mounting belief that he didn't have a right to enter the boy's space, but that wasn't his call to make. He took one slow step forward, then another, putting a cautious hand on Peter's shoulder.