Peter nudged his elbow against Tony's armour, as the two walked away from the mess of their last battle. "That was a pretty sticky situation, wouldn't you say?"

Tony's groan ended in a laugh. "Oh, god."

Peter bounced a little on his feet, high on the adrenaline from the fight. "My spider senses tell me you aren't a fan of puns."

Tony continued to laugh, as Peter walked beside him. It had been a good mission, and Peter had even gotten to use a web grenade or two. He'd probably say the best part had been when Cap literally threw him at a target, that was awesome, but his thoughts were interrupted when his vision exploded into white.

Stars flew across Peter's vision, and the teenager blinked, suddenly finding himself on the ground. He hadn't known what happened until he looked to see Tony's arm sticking out towards him, and he paled as he realized.

Tony had hit him. It had been so unexpected that Peter had no chance to block it.

His face throbbed painfully, and his ears rang, as Karen spoke. "You have sustained a mild concussion."

The teenager got shakily to his feet, words unsure. "Woah, okay, I didn't think you'd be that annoyed."

Tony took a halting step forwards, and Peter held up his hands cautiously, not knowing what might happen next. Tony grunted, and his arms came up to reach for Peter, fingers curled as if he were trying to choke him.

Peters blood ran cold, as he looked for any recognition in those cold eyes on the Iron-Man mask.

"Is this some sort of weird training thing? Because we just finished a battle, I think we should take a minute."

Tony let out a growl, before his fist swung towards Peter's face again, but he was prepared this time, and he caught it in one hand.

"Hey! What's going on? Seriously, Tony you're scaring me."

Tony kept fighting his grip, pulling at his arm before slamming his free fist into Peter's chest, sending the youngest Avenger soaring across the street. He skidded across the concrete, before flipping himself over and landing on his feet, in a crouch.

"Tony, what is happening?!"

But the suited man in front of him said nothing, just marched over towards him, his heavy metal boots clanking threateningly on the ground. Peter had never been scared of Tony before; he'd been intimidated, of course, but he'd never been afraid for his life.

Tony marched towards him, as Peter got to his feet, blinking away his blurred vision. He held his hands out in front of him, in surrender, and backed away as Tony came closer.

"Karen, what's going on? Is that really Tony in there?"

The Iron-Man helmet opened, before the AI could answer, revealing Tony's cold, indifferent, face. He looked so little like himself, eyes empty and uncaring, that a shiver ran up Peter's spine.

"I do not know what is causing this behaviour, but it doesn't seem as though he is going to stop." Karen sounded a tad worried, and Peter knew that she had reason to be, because although Peter was strong enough to take on Iron Man, he couldn't bring himself to do anything to hurt Tony. And he knew, if it came down to him or Tony, he would choose Tony.

The other man came closer, and Peter took a deep breath. "Karen, call for help. Tell Cap we have a situation."

The AI obliged, sending out a distress signal, as Tony marched over to Peter. The teenager fired a web, swinging up onto a building across the deserted street; ever thankful that civilians had been evacuated for the previous fight. If he could just distract Tony, and keep him occupied till help came, it might all turn out okay.

Tony's expression twisted a little, as Peter continued to swing out of reach, leading him slowly down the street; he looked angrier, and his movements became more purposeful. He no longer looked like a stiff marionette, more like his old self, just really, really, mad.

His arm shot out and fired a beam at Peter, just as he was swinging to another lamp post, and the blast of heat and light struck him in the chest, sending him crashing to the ground.

His suit protected his skin, but the blast burned, and hit him solidly, like a bat. Karen's voice was worried. "I have detected a crack in one of your ribs."

Peter grunted and wrapped an arm around his chest. "Yep, felt that one."

Her voice came again, as Peter watched Tony come at him. "Help will be here soon."

Peter threw a web at Tony, sticking his feet to the ground, and tying his arms to his sides, watching warily as the man struggled in the bonds.

"Sorry Tony, I don't know what's happening, but whatever it is, we'll fix it. I promise."

Tony grunted, and groaned, sounding more like an animal than himself, and Peter flinched back as he jerked particularly hard in his restraints.

"Tony? Can you even hear me?"

The other man's eyes were so empty. He looked mad, but had no recognition in his glare, and Peter quickly looked around for any civilians, before pulling his mask off.

"It's me, it's Peter. Do you know who I am?"

Something flickered in Tony's eyes, like something in him was wavering, but it lasted only a second before he screamed in rage and shook his head roughly and pulled at the webs tying him down.

Peter was scared, he'd never seen anything like this happen, and he didn't know what else to do but keep Tony tied up until help came. His webs were usually very good at holding people, but Tony always had his suit geared up for anything, and he watched in horror as the suits surface heated enough to melt the webs, Tony pulling at it like gum.

Peter cursed as his mentor surged towards him, and tried to dodge the oncoming punches before they hit him. He had trained with Tony before, and knew a lot of his moves, but he wasn't usually this fast. Tony always pulled his punches, but this time, he was using every ounce of strength he had, and with a suit of metal, it was a lot.

Peter was struck in the face again, stumbling back, before receiving a blow to the side of his head, and another to his chest. Pain flared through him, knocking the air from his lungs as he slid across the concrete once more.

He hadn't even had enough time to get up, before Tony was standing over him, gripping the collar of his suit and hauling him up, holding him while he drew his fist down, over, and over, into Peter's face.

Spider-Man could take some hits, but Tony's fists were encased in metal, and even Peter's abilities couldn't protect him from the harm that it brought. He cried out in pain, as he was struck, his head snapping to the side with each punch.

He couldn't hear Karen with his mask off, but he didn't even need her to tell him his concussion was worse, and that something in his face was broken. He felt blood running down his forehead and cheek, and saw it smeared on Tony's fist as he tried to push it away.

He felt awful, his eyes barely able to open, and breaths coming as wet, pants, from between his aching teeth. And while he didn't want to hurt Tony, he couldn't stand the pain anymore.

He shoved his hand against the metal chest plate of Tony's suit, pushing him back a good few meters, so that he could attempt to stand on his shaky legs. Everything was spinning, and it was hard to see through the blood pouring over his eye, but he held up a trembling hand as Tony watched him, furiously.

"P-please. Stop."

But those eyes, that were so familiar, and usually so kind, were full of an empty sort of hate. It was as if Tony was nothing but a shell, with endless rage and anger, but no reason or direction for it.

He came forwards again, and Peter let out a sob. He was scared.

"Please, I don't want to hurt you. This isn't you, this isn't right. Please, Tony, stop."

He jumped out of the way as the mechanic ran forward to grab him, only to be yanked down to the ground by his ankle. He slammed against the pavement, groaning in pain as his injuries were jostled, before screaming in agony as Tony's metal fingers squeezed his ankle, crushing it until it broke in his hold. Peter felt the bone snap, his vision going white as he tried to suck in a breath.

Tony rolled him onto his back, and leant over him as Peter sucked in a breath and sobbed once more, trying to shove the man away from him.

"Please! Tony, stop hurting me, please. You don't want to do this."

Tony scowled above him and brushed Peters hands away from his chest. Usually, Peter was stronger, but Tony wasn't holding back, and his own injuries were making him weak, and he no longer knew if he could keep Tony from killing him.

Tony had always said he'd protect him, but now he was the one hurting Peter, and Peter didn't know what to do.

"Tony!"

He looked in those eyes as he cried, and he knew then, that if he didn't stop him, Tony would kill him.

He needed to fight back. At least until help came.

Peter threw a punch, landing on Tony's cheek and leaving an angry red mark, though he hadn't hit nearly as hard as he could have. Tony barely reacted, grunting with the impact before turning back to the kid and catching the next punch. His metal hand caught Peters fist, and squeezed, just as he had on Peter's ankle, snapping his fingers beneath his grip.

Peter screamed and writhed beneath him, pain blurring his mind and turning it to panic. He used his uncrushed hand to fire a web to tie Tony's arm to a nearby lamp post, but it didn't last more than a second, before Tony pulled it free with a scream of rage, and twisted the webs ends in his grip.

He smiled horribly down at Peter as he brought the web to Peters throat, and used it to strangle him.

Peter had never been more scared in all his life. He pushed his good hand against Tony's chest, desperate enough to leave dents in the metal, as Tony pulled the ends of the web and squeezed Peters throat tighter, making him choke.

The teenager's vision was going white, he couldn't get any air in, and he knew that he would black out soon.

But, he couldn't get free without hurting Tony. If he used his full strength on him, he could end up crushing his skull with one punch, or hit his chest so hard he had a heart attack. And he couldn't do it. So, he struggled, and tried to push Tony off him, as his lungs screamed for their need for air.

His limbs grew weaker, the longer he went without oxygen, and soon his hand slipped from Tony, to smack against the ground, as his brain tried to conserve oxygen by taking it away from his muscles. He could no longer move, just blink hazily up at the man killing him.

Peter had heard about people's lives flashing before their eyes as they died, but all he saw was the rage on Tony's face, before it was replaced by the familiar, and concerned face, of Captain America.

…..

Steve had received the distress signal just as he was finishing with some civilians. A van had been flipped during the fight, trapping multiple innocent people; so, when Karen informed him through his coms, that Peter and Tony needed help, he didn't answer right away. The civilians needed help too, because while he could lift the van easily on his own, one of them was pinned and moving it would cause more harm.

He stayed to help, as did the rest of the team, because there was just too much to do and they didn't have all the Avengers present. He and Tony had gotten the call to action, and Tony had taken Peter along, while Cap took Wanda and Vision. They didn't have as much back up as they usually did.

He was sure they'd be okay on their own, but hurried as much as he could.

It took too long to help those in need, in fact, he had wanted to leave earlier, but the people that had been trapped were only teenagers, and they had begged him to stay with them till the ambulance came. And he couldn't say no.

He stayed until the civilians were okay, and then tapped at his coms, asking Karen for an update on the others.

"How are Tony and Spider-Man? Still need assistance?"

The AI's usually happy voice was tinged with worry, and her words quickly made Steve's chest fill with the same heavy weight.

"Tony has been compromised, and is currently attacking Peter. Peter doesn't appear to be breathing."

Steve's heart thumped hard against his ribcage, and his blood ran cold. He stood, grabbing Wanda's arm, and tugged her to where Tony and Peter were located, as he yelled at the AI.

"Why would Tony be hurting Peter!?"

Wanda's eyes grew large and scared, as Vision followed behind them.

"I do not know. Please, hurry; Peter's vitals are dangerously unstable."

Steve began sprinting, feeling the burn of his muscles as he used every ounce of strength and power, to get to his team mates as quickly as possible.

They were about to turn the corner, onto the street where the trackers lead them, when Wanda stumbled back, hands coming up to her temples.

"Woah, Steve wait."

The super soldier skidded to a stop, impatiently turning back. "What?"

The young girl's eyebrows furrowed as she lifted her hands and began curling her fingers, red streams of light seeping through the air around her.

"There's someone here, I don't know who but I can feel them. They're trying to invade my mind, yours too."

Steve was desperate to get to Tony and Peter, he didn't care who tried to stop him, he would not leave them.

"Is that what's happening to Tony? Is he being controlled?"

Wanda nodded, frowning in concentration as she curled her fingers tighter, as if pulling on an invisible string to someone's mind.

Steve inched towards the next street, needing to find the others. He could already hear the faint sounds of someone choking, someone young; and he felt sick with worry about what he might find, or be too late to stop.

"If I go there, am I going to get controlled too?"

The girl shook her head, gasping at the strength needed to hold back the attacker. "I've got them distracted, I know where they are. I'll block out their influence, and Vis can help me stop them. You go help Tony and Peter."

Steve didn't wait a second, sprinting to where the sounds of gagging were getting quieter.

He had a million things going through his mind, and a thousand bad images for what he might be met with when he found him; but what he saw, made his heart skip a beat.

Tony was crouched over Peter, with webbing twisted in his grip, wrapped around the teenager's throat. He was squeezing so hard Peter's face was turning purple, and his hands were weakly pawing at the metal armour over Tony's chest, before falling limp.

Steve surged forward, just as Tony began to shake, twitching and groaning as he seemed to come back to himself. Cap pushed the mechanic off the teenager, just in time to see Peter's eyes roll back into his head.

He could barely breathe as he unwrapped the web from around Peter's throat, placing a hand on the kid's chest.

Tony groaned behind him, metal scraping against concrete as he stumbled, confused. "Peter? What happened?" Steve didn't even look behind him, but he knew Tony was no longer being controlled. That was one problem solved, for now, but the other one…

He placed two fingers at Peters neck as he used his other hand to tap his coms.

"I need a medevac now! Get Bruce on the line!"

Peter didn't respond to his gentle ministrations, and blood dripped from the cut over his eye, as well as the one on his cheek, and his nose. God, the kid was a mess.

Bruce's voice came through the coms, hurried, and concerned.

"What happened?"

Cap's words were breathless, and he almost forgot Tony was behind him, as he spoke.

"Peter was strangled, he's not breathing and his pulse is weak and rapid."

Tony sucked in a greedy breath behind Steve, and metal clanked again as he tried to come closer. "God, did I-?"

Steve didn't have time to be gentle with him; he flung out a hand and an apologetic frown to his team mate, before turning back to the dying teenager beneath him.

"Tony stay back!"

Bruce's words were quick and focused, and Steve was glad someone knew what to do. "Start rescue breaths, it's just like CPR but without compressions. Try not to move his neck or head too much, he could have sustained some damage, I'll put him in a collar as soon as I get there."

Steve did his best to be gentle, as he opened the kids mouth and tilted his head back. He could hear Tony crying softly behind him, as he breathed into Peter's mouth, pausing to allow him a chance to breathe on his own, before trying again. But nothing was happening.

"It's not working! He isn't breathing and his pulse is getting weaker. Bruce, what do I do?!"

The answer came quick, as Tony's breathing got harsher. "I'll be there in three minutes, keep breathing for him, he can't go without oxygen for much longer!"

Steve had done a lot of horrible things in his life, more than most, but he'd never been more afraid than when his shaking hands held a teenager's mouth open, so that he could breathe for him. Peter was innocent, he was bright, and kind, and so, so young. But he was about to die at the hands of his mentor, and Steve didn't know if he could save him.

Tony's mind was fuzzy, and slow, but when he saw Peter laying there, unmoving and bleeding, he felt as though his whole world had stopped.

Bruce came, and Tony couldn't bring himself to move as he leant over the youngest member of their team. He wasn't as calm as he usually was, cursing and grabbing at equipment.

"His throat is too swollen, I'm going to have to intubate. Dammit, get that line in."

His chest felt as if it were caving in, as he watched medics swarm over that vulnerable form, placing IV's, wrapping a collar around the kid's neck, and shoving things in his throat. And it was his fault. He had tried to kill his kid.

The mechanic choked on a sob, as he saw Peter's broken fingers, lay still on the concrete, limb stretched towards him, as if reaching for him, for help. But he could give none.

"God, Peter, I'm so sorry."

Hands took his trembling shoulders, as Peter was lifted carefully onto a backboard and strapped to a stretcher, Bruce hovering diligently over him. Tony didn't have to look up to know that the firm but gentle hands belonged to Steve. His voice was sad.

"Let's go home. Bruce has got him." He offered no reassurance that Peter would be fine. Because he didn't know. The kid was so battered, that he didn't look like himself at all; and he didn't know what would happen.

Tony went with him, and wished he was the one hanging on by a thread.

…

The list of injuries was long, and each addition made Tony want to throw up even more.

"He's healing fast, as usual, but it will take a little while for everything to go back to normal. The cuts over his cheek and forehead, took a few stitches each, to close, but they'll be fine. His ankle and hand are in casts, and should come off in a week or so; his rib will heal on its own. His cheek was broken, which caused a lot of swelling, and it'll take a little longer than the others to heal, but it didn't need surgery."

Tony winced and looked away from the x-rays on screen. He remembered the feeling of Peter's bones snapping beneath his grip, the way the teenager had screamed and begged him to stop. An ankle, four fingers, and three knuckles. He swallowed his nausea.

"What about his… when I…" He couldn't say it, but gestured to his neck. He couldn't say the words, couldn't say the word strangled, or choked, or attempted murder. Bruce nodded, and swiped at his screen, pulling up images of more scans and x-rays.

"The swelling went down, he's breathing on his own now, but it's still very painful for him so he shouldn't talk just yet. Luckily there was no damage to his neck or spinal cord, and his CT and MRI showed no lasting damage to the brain."

Tony sighed, because he could tell that wasn't it.

"But-?"

Bruce pressed his lips together. He didn't want to say it, but Tony's expression was hard, and he knew he would just look through his files if he didn't tell him.

"He's showing signs of confusion and short-term memory loss."

Tony ducked his head, rubbing a hand over his face. "Jesus."

Bruce tried quickly to amend as Steve placed a comforting hand on his team mates shoulder. "It should pass soon, and it's most likely just because of the concussion. But…because of how long he went without oxygen, I have to keep an eye on it. Just to be safe."

Tony stood, and began pacing as Steve's hand fell from his shoulder. Tension and anxiety was evident in his rigid stance, and ever fidgeting hands.

"You should have me locked up."

Steve started forward, interrupted as Tony spun to face him. "Tony- "

"I almost killed him! I broke his bones Steve, I strangled- "

He choked on the words, and closed his eyes as he tried to keep from hyperventilating. His voice was quieter as he tried again.

"Tell him that I'm sorry, and that he'll never have to see me again."

Steven tried to grab his arm, but sighed as he was dodged, and watched Tony leave. There wasn't anything he could do for him, he knew, but it wouldn't stop him trying to dig Tony out of the grave of guilt he buried himself in.

…

Peter was laying in his bed, drugged enough to keep the pain at bay, and watching the clouds pass outside his window, when Steve walked in.

The teenager turned to him as he entered, and Steve had a hard time not walking right back out again. It had been a day since the…incident, and he wasn't looking much better than when he'd found him lying in the street. Heavy bruises covered his face, and ringed his neck, with strips of bandages taped over his skin to cover the rows of stitches.

His casted ankle and hand were propped up with pillows, and the whole room was kept dim and quiet so as not to aggravate his concussion.

But he smiled as much as he could, because that was Peter; and Steve smiled back, sitting on the edge of the kid's bed.

"Hey, bud. Are you feeling any better?"

Peter shrugged a little, eyes blinking slowly, as his glassy gaze slid over the super soldier's face.

"Where's Tony?"

Steve swallowed, unwilling to give the message the mechanic had wanted him to. "He's giving you a little space, till you feel better. It's hard for him to see you like this, after what happened."

The teenager looked disappointed, good hand fiddling with the wires stuck to his chest, till Steve gently tugged them away. His voice was small, and weak, throat still recovering, and his words came as hoarse whispers.

"Is he mad? I hit him, to try and get him off me, but I didn't want to do it. I didn't hurt him, did I?"

Steve's heart broke at the worried look in Peters eyes. He'd been almost killed by his mentor, and here he was, worrying about one punch.

"He's okay, buddy. You did a good job controlling your strength. He's not mad at you, he just can't…see what he did to you, without it hurting."

Peter nodded a little, looking tired. "It was scary, but it wasn't him, right?"

Steve nodded, and stood, tucking Peter's blankets over his chest. "No, he would never do that to you, if he could help it. It was a mind manipulator, he decided to have a little fun, but Wanda and Vision took care of him. He won't be hurting anyone ever again. And Peter you have to know, if anything like that happens, you're allowed to protect yourself; you can fight back, even if it might hurt us."

Peter frowned. "No, I couldn't do that. Hey, Steve?"

Cap adjusted the kids pillows as he nodded, gesturing him to continue.

"Where's Tony?"

The soldier sighed and looked down at Peter, brushing his hair back over his forehead. "You already asked that, Pete. He's okay, he'll be back soon. You just get some sleep now, you've done enough talking."

The youngest Avenger did as he was told, sinking back into his pillows, and quickly falling asleep, as Steve rubbed a hand over his face and tried not to cry. What was he going to do?

…..

It took only a few days for Peter to heal enough to get out of bed. Tony stayed away from him, but kept an eye on his kid through cameras throughout the compound, and updates from the rest of the team. He didn't want Peter to see him, but that didn't mean he would leave him completely. He stayed locked in his lab, and refused to come out.

Steve also thought it might have been a way of punishing himself too, that Tony thought he had to look at the injuries he caused, that he deserved to feel that sick guilt eating away at him every time he saw Peter through the camera's footage.

So, for four days, Tony kept an eye on him. He watched as Peter got stronger, the way he smiled when the other Avengers signed his casts, and how he went back to his normal talkative self as soon as his throat was better.

Cap watched movies with him, and Bruce patiently answered the same questions over and over when Peter forgot the answer.

But that got better too, Peter's memory improved, and his attention span was less like a bird, flicking from one point to another without landing for long.

Peter was getting better, and the bruises were fading, but Tony's memories about what happened were not. He could still see everything so clearly, and feel the way it had all felt.

He knew that Peter had been having nightmares, too. He barely slept himself, so when Peter screamed in the night, Tony could hear it, he could hear the names Peter called out, and the pleas for help.

"Tony! Please, don't! Stop, hurting me, this isn't you! Steve, help me!"

No, he couldn't see him. There was no telling what might happen when Peter saw him again, he could have panic attacks or PTSD, and Tony wouldn't be responsible for any more of that kid's pain.

But Bruce and Steve were insistent; they came to his room, and spoke to him each day with updates, and meals that they forced him to eat.

"He asked about you again today. Remembered the answer too, so he's improving. He misses you."

Tony didn't look at the doctor, just took the offered plate and set it down on his desk before turning back to a project he'd been working on instead of sleeping.

"He had another nightmare about me, too. What, you think I couldn't hear him screaming at two AM this morning?"

Bruce slammed his hand down on the desk, making tools and metal rattle. "You know what he was dreaming about? He wasn't scared of you Tony, he was scared for you! He hasn't seen you in days, he thinks you hate him! His nightmare was about you being hurt, about him being unable to control his own strength when fighting you off!"

Tony's breathing was speeding up, and he ignored the way his hands shook as he tightened a bolt on his project.

"He shouldn't ever have had to fight me off. That's the point."

"He knows it wasn't your fault, you would never hurt him. He needs you."

Tony pressed his fingers to his eyes till bright spots danced across his mind. "I can't."

Bruce's voice was softer, and Tony sighed as he felt his hand drop on his shoulder, gently squeezing.

"Yes, you can. Because you promised you'd always be there for him, and I won't let you break that promise."

His hand left Tony's shoulder, and he thought that was then end of it, until Bruce spoke again, quiet, and sad.

"He got this for you, by the way. Said it was his apology for punching you." His footsteps faded away, and Tony took a breath before turning around to see what Bruce had left on his work bench. It was a mug, and Tony's chest squeezed as he read the words printed over it.

'World's best Dad Tony.' The 'dad' had been crossed out, and 'Tony' written in Peter's neat handwriting, with permanent marker. Tony covered his mouth with one hand as he picked the mug up, knowing he was going to cry. Because, he was well aware that Peter was smart enough to know how to order a personalised mug, he didn't have to get this one and scribble it out, but he did, which meant it was intentional.

Tony held the mug and cried.

…..

Peter grunted in annoyance, as he tried to spread peanut butter over his toast, with his casted hand. It would be coming off soon, but it was just so annoying.

Steve let out a small laugh and came over to help, gently taking the knife from his grip and doing it for him, as Peter gave him a grateful smile.

"Thanks, Captain America. You save people and you make toast, what can't you do?"

The older man laughed and nudged the kid with his elbow. "Hey, don't get smart or you can keep trying to do this yourself."

"Local hero bullies injured child, that'll look good in the papers." Peter and Steve both turned at the voice, shocked to see Tony leaning on the doorway of the kitchen, casually sipping coffee from his new mug.

Peter hobbled over to the man, the moon boot on his foot making it difficult to walk without looking stupid, but he smiled all the same and wrapped his arms around Tony's chest.

"Tony! You're back!"

Steve pulled the mug from Tony's hand so that he could hug him back, and he gave the soldier a nod before looking down to the teenager attached to his chest.

"Yeah, I'm sorry I left. I won't do it again."

Peter pulled back, frowning sadly. It was still hard for Tony to look at him, but it wasn't about how he felt, it was about Peter.

"Why did you leave? Were you hurt too? I tried to be careful but I just didn't- "

Tony quickly shook his head and took hold of Peters shoulders. "No, no you didn't hurt me at all. You should have, but you didn't. I just didn't want you to have to see me again. I didn't want you to be scared of me. Peter…I am so, so sorry for what I did."

Peter relaxed, sighing at the knowledge that Tony was okay. Jesus, what did he do to deserve this kid?

"I know it wasn't your fault, I forgive you." The words were so simple, and Peter's eyes had been honest and bright as always, as he'd said them, yet they hit Tony like bricks, slamming into his chest and taking every gasp of air with them.

He sniffed, vision blurring with tears once more, as he pulled Peter back to his chest for a hug. He felt as if he could finally breathe.

"Thanks, kid. I missed you."

Peter hugged him back tight, smiling. "I missed you too."