I promise there is a misunderstanding and love in this, I swear, but it's more towards the end.

And its Iron-Dad, so oops.

If you can't tell already, this is for the Show me the Love Challenge in January. The theme is misunderstandings. And because most of the stories are Naruto, but I am uncultured in that fandom I will be doing something different - as usual! So, Marvel, it is.

But if you're not here from the FRM, then I still hope you like it (just ignore the previous comment!).

Whoop, please enjoy, it took a long time to fully flesh out the plot and idk if im fully happy with it anyways.

"Dude, what the hell, you said Thursday?"

"No, Peter, I think I said Tuesday."

"Ned, I remember-"

"Is there a problem, Mr. Parker?" barked a voice full of authority.

Peter's head flinched up. "Uh, nah-" he stuttered. "No, there's nothing wrong."

"Well, then," eyed his teacher, "tests are out. Be quiet. You have until the end of the period."

Ned quickly spun around again, his shoulders slightly shrugged. "Sorry, man, it was a silly misunder-"

"Mr. Leeds."

Peter watched his friend turn to the front of the class within a second. Ned's face shaded into a flustered red. Both looked down at the test laying in front of them after the teacher left the conversation.

It wasn't like Peter was not ready for this AP Physics test at all - he just thought some last minute studying would help. His eyes stared at the first question.

He could have swore Ned told him the test was on Thursday.

Peter's eyes lingered towards his friend, sitting in front of him one row to the right. He immediately felt the cold stare of his teacher looking into his soul and decided to give it another shot at the first question.

God, when did this period end again?

Eventually, after what seemed like years, Peter was finishing adding the final touches on his essay when the bell rang. He stuffed his pencil into a pants pocket and stood up, swinging his backpack over his shoulder. Peter laid the completed test on his teacher's desk and filed out of the class without looking back.

He and Ned approached a split in the hallway, having to head to different classes.

Ned threw his hands up. "Sorry, man, I did say Thursday through text; I checked. You do good?"

"S'right, bro, I did fine," Peter answered. "I should pay more attention in class," he added, beginning to go to next period before the bell rang. He tossed a cya around over his shoulder and got a bye in reply.

Peter really should pay more attention in class. Throughout the next three periods, he dozed off, jumping back to his senses at the slap in front of his desk from his teacher's hand. He heard giggling around the classroom but decided to ignore it, as usual.

Finally, the school day was complete. Peter stood at the front enterence, waiting for Ned to hurry and come out. They usually walked home together and ranted about classes or more cool perks about being a superhero. Peter checked his phone as it buzzed in his pocket.

Ned: Sorry dude i gotta remake a quiz

Peter rolled his eyes and began to walk home as he gave a reply. Actually, he wasn't walking home - he was headed to the familiar alleyway. He felt as if he was getting much better at changing in secret.

He webbed his backpack up a little big higher each day so no one would get to it. Then as he shoved his belongings away, and the suit tightened around his body, he received a call from the one and only Tony Stark.

Peter didn't know how to answer so he thought it was best not to. That was until Karen answered the call for him. Peter panicked but quickly regained himself as he swung in the air.

"Uh, hey, Mr. Stark," he said.

"Ah Christ," Tony responded, his face taking up a small corner of Peter's vision. It looked like the feed was coming from the Iron Man suit. "Finally you're out of school; I need you."

"Need me?"

There was a rough, short silence of jagged breath before Tony continued. "Nothing weird, kid, I need you to make an appearence in this fight."

"Fight," repeated Peter. "You want me to actually-"

"God dammit, yeah, Pete," Tony cut off, stressed. "I need you to cover more ground. Nat thinks there's gonna be another attack."

"Nat as in Black Widow."

"That's the one, kid," replied Tony. "I'm sending Karen the coordinates to where the next explosion is gonna be."

"Explosion?" Peter questioned, changing routes when a bunch of numbers appeared on screen.

Tony inhaled, frustrated. "Listen, I know I told you to settle down, but this is a group of people who've been causing trouble for a while now."

"Yeah, okay," mumbled Peter. "I'm on my way; what should I expect?"

"'Bout five guys, one or two with a gun," answered Tony. Peter could hear how strained his voice was. "They're gonna try to distract you down the block so a sixth can blow up an overcrowed building. Kid, I need you not to get distracted, okay?" Tony said. "No more helping the little guy; I need you to stop the explosion. Do you understand? Do not get yourself hurt either, or I will not be pleased."

"I'll be fine," Peter said.

"I hope so," Tony murmured. "Ill see you soon, Pete."

And then he hung up.

Peter was still following the preset directions when he saw the action. It looked like nothing; just a simple New York day. There were busy passbyers rushing down the street and the car honked every once in a while. Peter perched himself atop of a lamp post and watched for a moment. Maybe Tony was wrong.

But it was calculated.

Perhaps whoever was behind this was smarter than to attack many times in one day. Maybe they knew the location of the next explosion was already targeted. Maybe its a test.

Peter ran scenarios through his head. Starting with why Tony actually decided to call him to work. He sounded distressed, but there was nothing out of the ordinary in front of where Peter was standing. He was stumped.

And then he was jumping in the air out of the firing range.

Within seconds of believing nothing was happening, Peter flung himself off the lamppost and gravity sent him tumlbing to the ground. Another shot rang out, piercing his eardrums with how loud the firing arm was. He knew if he was still a second longer, he would have been dead.

Tony was correct.

Peter reacted, a plan forming in his mind. He spun around and shot a stream of web fluid to where the bullet flew from. As his web connected with a target, he yanked forward uncontrollably, causing the masked man to fall forward. Peter grunted, eyes fluttering for his next victim as he basically glued the first one to the floor. He swiped the gun out of first man, debating on whether to use it before he thought it wad a bad idea and emptied the weapon of bullets. He threw the weapon in the air, and webbed it to the side of a building - out of reach.

His head hovered back and forth looking for the other participants. Keep your head up, he thought. "Aye," Peter yelled out loud, spinning playfully in circles. He put his life on the line, fully depending on the spider-sense. "Gone so soon? I thought we were havin' fun?"

"And who are you?"

Peter whipped around, the back of his head tingling. No body was there - even the citizens had fled. He leaned forward to where the sound seemed to be coming from, curious. "What the..." he mumbled.

"I said," the booming voice repeated, "who are you?"

Peter placed a hand on his chest, using the other to slowly swing against a traffic light. "Nah, come on, you've to have heard of me before, yeah?"

"No," the voice said, "I only deal with people who are a threat to me. And you do not look like a threat."

"Pssh, you don't know me," Peter mumbled, eyes still pealed. Then, louder: "Who's a threat to you then?"

"Stark."

The web slipped from his fingertips and Peter fell to the ground, astonished. He stood up and glanced around on the balls of his feet. "As in...Iron Man?" he said. Now he was curious as to what this fight was actually about.

"Not as dumb as you look, kiddo."

Peter stayed silent for a moment, hoping that whoever was speaking couldn't see him and how worried he was deep down. At first, the response that popped into his head was, I'm not a kid, but that would be way to obvious for the person who made up this whole plan. They would see right past it. "Where are you?" he asked instead to change the subject.

"I am," the voice said in front of Peter, "everywhere." It finished, sounding like it was from behind.

Peter turned around, the gears clicking. "A recording?" he asked. "No, no, you're answering me. It's a speaker."

He jumped up on to the closest building and scanned the walls, looking for anything out of the ordinary. The voice stayed quiet as Peter continued. His eyes caught against a little gray dot and he swung to it. Picking it onto his finger, the sound protruded out of it.

"Not bad for whatever you are," it said.

"I'm Spider-Man, okay?" Peter said, throwing the electionic device to the ground. He watched it smash to pieces before jumping off the building and on to the speaker's remains. "You're gonna have to come out and talk if all your speakers are broken."

"I will not be going anywhere."

"Coward."

Peter took the shocked silence as a small victory. He sling-shotted up to the closest building and sat on the edge, eyes lingering out. "Where would I be," he muttered, "if I was some lowkey villain dude?"

His eyes widened. He tossed himself off the edge and let his fingertips and toes attach him to the building's side. Another bullet. Before he could recollect himself though, he had let go of the establishment and slipped to the ground. "I'm a threat to you now-" he yelled, ready.

But everything was on fire - the building he was just sitting on moments before, engulfed into flames. It exploded and he let it. Oh, god, it was a distraction, oh god, he failed, oh god, oh god. Without hesitation, he ran inside. Oh, god, he had to find people.

"Third floor," Karen hinted. "I detect one person." She paused. "Your heart rate has increased severely. Shall I contact Mr. Stark?"

Peter obeyed and headed to the third floor. His head shook, but his mouth said yes. "Wait, no; he's busy, Karen," he screamed over the flames, reaching the objected floor and opening a door to get inside. "I got this-"

He was punched. Peter was punched in the face and he stumbled backwards, pain coursing through him. Oh man, it was so hot and now his face throbbed along with it. Dust was everywhere and there was smoke, not to mention the flames and so many thoughts racing inside of his mind. And here he was, laying on the ground in the building Stark specifically told him not to let blow up. He got distracted.

"Now," a voice said, followed by the clicking of a gun, "now you're my problem."

So Peter did the option he was taught: he went for the legs. His eyes closed and he shot out in the direction his mind told him to. The grunt and sound of potatoes hitting the floor indicated he aimed correctly. He scrambled to stand up, eyes opening and looking for a solution. "Lucky you," he said. Oh god, he wondered how see through it was that he was worried.

"Damn, you're just a kid-" the man began, cutting himself off before he jumped to collect the gun in his hands. He gripped the weapon in his hands momentarily and paused, pointing the end at Peter. "You're voice, you...I can't-"

"I can," someone spat behind the pair. A wave of panic washed through Peter as he heard the shot ring out. He didn't feel anything, though, he didn't feel the blood on his hands or the ache in his bones. Because he wasn't shot.

The guy originally trying to kill him was. Now there was someone new. Peter turned around to face more smoke and the wood of the door frame crashing down. He threw himself onto the hot ceiling and swung over to the new enemy. About to flip down and kick the man in the chest, Peter was forced to change course - the roof was falling in. Wood and dust and ash crashed down on him, causing him as well to fall to the floor. Peter laid there, pushing pieces of the blown up building off of him when a flash flew by his sight.

It seemed something broke in through a shattered window and swept the armed man right off of his feet.

Groaning, Peter tossed the last bit of debris off of him and jumped up. There were a few rushed gunshots, then a blast and short light flashed before his eyes. Everything stayed silent for an uncomfortable moment. Peter watched the same burning flash soar through his vision. He got a better glance at what - or who - it was before thinking it was best to follow it out the window. He jumped out the broken hole, shooting a web at the roof of a nearby building.

He swung close to the building before latching on with his fingertips and climbing up. Peter inhaled, coming face to face with none other than Tony Stark; his mask was down and his head hung low.

"Mr. Stark-"

Tony put his hand up and Peter immediately shut himself up. "I told you specifically not to get distracted, and look what happened. You're so lucky Karen called me at a good time.."

"They weren't going to blow the building up; they were after you," Peter argued, slipping off his mask to show more emotion. He motioned towards Tony to emphasize.

"I know, kid, I know," Tony said softly, looking up. "This was the last stop to the plan and we guessed the action wrong."

Peter let his head drift to the side, eyes lingering before coming back to the present. "Where did he go-where is he?" he asked.

"Pete-"

"You killed him, Mr. Stark."

"If I didn't kill him, kid, he woulda killed you," Tony replied. He paused as if there were more words jumbled in his brain. "You, me, and many others."

Peter swallowed. "Yeah, I know that, yeah," he stuttered, blinking. "I just-"

"That risk is too high, do you hear me?" Tony interrupted. "When you put on that mask, you become mine and I will not let you die. I dont know what I would do or how I would be able to tell your aunt."

"I know," repeated Peter.

"And truth be told," Tony began, "I don't wanna see you die, kid. You mean a lot to me - I just don't know how to tell you."

Peter looked up, his face caught somewhere between a blushy red and a beaming yellow. He couldn't tell if Tony was proud in him or happy to see him alive or what. So Peter smiled. He couldn't help it anymore so he laughed for a second too.

"What?" Tony questioned. "I'm here awkwardly spilling my emotion and you're laughing. I know I'm not good at this-"

"No, no, that's not it," Peter said, clearing his throat. "I get it, I think."

Tony looked at the ground as he walked forward, placing a hand atop Peter's shoulder. "You did good. Better than I ever did at your age," he quietly said. "I'm proud."

Peter was washed over with something amazing. The definition of joy was shown on his face. He looked up and smiled. "Thank you, Mr. Stark."

"Yep," Tony replied. He patted Peter's shoulder for a moment and looked to the side. "We should probably leave before we get fined or something."

Peter followed his eyeline to the building he was previously in, now being sprayed with water. "You're right," he answered. "C'ya 'round, Mr. Stark."

"Bye, kid."

Peter watched Tony launch away before slipping his mask back on and web-slinging down the block. He did not dare to look closer at the building that was engulfed in flames. Instead his mind wondered to something else.

Tony said he was proud of him.

Peter smiled. It was strange finally having a fatherly figure around, especially when he could stick to walls. It was nice that Tony could understand - somewhat. It was strange and Peter was sure to mess up a few more times, but he was loving it.