two.
⚙️
“Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!”
The familiar tiny voice rang loud and clear, freezing Tony in place. Peter wasn’t supposed to be down here in the lab right now. He was supposed to be upstairs with Natalie, playing until Pepper got back with dinner. Tony’s heart sank as he glanced at the glowing holograms projected all around him—an intricate display of his arc reactor core and the long, depressing list of potential solutions to the palladium problem. Every single one of them had failed, some three times over, despite the endless tweaks and minor adjustments. He’d just pricked his finger, the custom scanner reading the toxicity levels in his blood. It only took a few seconds, but that was long enough for Peter to come bounding into view, wide-eyed and grinning as if nothing in the world could ever go wrong.
Tony’s heart clenched.
“Blood toxicity level is currently at 36%, sir,” JARVIS’s voice rang through the lab, clear and emotionless as ever.
Tony’s blood turned ice-cold. And this time, it had nothing to do with the palladium poisoning his bloodstream.
He quickly scanned Peter’s face, but the kid didn’t seem to have registered JARVIS’s words. Or if he did, he didn’t care. He probably thought it was just another one of Tony’s projects—just more random information that the AI threw out to his dad all the time. Peter had grown used to it by now. Tony could only hope it stayed that way.
A few moments later, Natalie followed Peter into the lab, looking a little more perturbed than Tony had ever seen her.
“Sorry, Mr. Stark,” she began, offering Peter a semi-stern glance. “He knew he was supposed to wait before coming down here, but he was just excited. Miss Potts is back with dinner. She asked us to come get you.”
Tony glanced at the time, startled by how fast it had slipped away from him. How long had he been down here, losing himself in the work, chasing dead ends? Long enough that he hadn’t even noticed Pepper returning. He’d asked JARVIS not to disturb him unless something was critical. Apparently, dinner didn’t count as a critical event—though he had to admit, Pepper would probably disagree.
“Daddy! Mommy brought cheeseburgers!” Peter piped up gleefully, scrambling onto Tony’s lap without hesitation. Tony’s practiced smile appeared instantly, like muscle memory. Cheeseburgers had always been his favorite, and apparently, the apple hadn’t fallen far from the tree. “She got veggie burgers for Miss Natalie though, since she doesn’t eat meat,” Peter continued, his excitement bubbling over as he swung his legs against Tony’s chair.
“Veggie burgers, huh?” Tony gave Peter his full attention, ruffling the kid’s hair with one hand. If there was one thing he remembered from his childhood, it was how much it sucked to be ignored—especially by his father. He’d sworn Peter would never know that feeling.
Tony shot Natalie a teasing grin. “Miss Natalie has more strength than all of us combined, then. I could never give up my cheeseburgers.” He gently poked Peter’s nose, earning a giggle and a blush from his son, one of Tony’s favorite sights in the world.
Peter’s gaze drifted to Tony’s cluttered workbench, his eyes landing on the cup of green liquid sitting among the mess of tools and holograms. “What’s in your green drink, Daddy?”
Tony’s smile faltered, just for a second, as he caught sight of the cup. The stuff was supposed to help. Or at least that’s what he told himself. What he wanted to say was that it was juice meant to slow down the palladium poisoning, to do something good for his blood. But what came out was much simpler. “Just green juice, Squirt. Miss Natalie and your mom are rubbing off on me—trying to get me to be healthier.”
Peter sniffed the cup, wrinkling his nose in disgust. “It looks yucky.”
Tony laughed softly, grateful for the distraction. “You’ve got no idea, kiddo.”
The truth was right there on the tip of his tongue—this stuff tastes like it’s made of lawn clippings and sadness—but instead, he swallowed it down. Part of being a parent meant setting a good example, right? Even if that example involved drinking the world’s nastiest concoction. He’d read that in one of the many parenting books Pepper had convinced him to buy. If he only had so much time left with Peter, he was determined to make sure that time counted.
Tony’s gaze flicked back to Natalie, who had been standing quietly during the exchange, her sharp eyes still surveying the room. He’d momentarily forgotten she was there—probably not the best move, he thought to himself. But she was good at her job, that much was clear.
“It’s okay,” Tony said, addressing her. “That he ran down here, I mean. No harm done. JARVIS will lock the door if I’m working on something dangerous or sensitive.” Which was mostly true. He made a mental note to make sure that actually happened from now on.
Natalie gave him a small smile in return, a look of calm assurance. “Thank you, Mr. Stark,” she said smoothly. Before she could add anything else, though, Pepper’s familiar heels clicked against the floor as she descended the stairs, joining them in the lab.
Tony’s eyes flicked up immediately. She was in a sleek black dress, professional but effortlessly elegant, paired with cream pumps. His grin widened instinctively. She had that effect on him.
Leaning down to Peter, he whispered playfully in his ear, “Did you tell Mommy how beautiful she looks today?”
Peter’s eyes widened as if this was vital, earth-shattering information he’d somehow forgotten to relay. He shook his head, jumping off Tony’s lap and barreling toward Pepper like a rocket. She caught him with practiced grace, laughing as he crashed into her.
“Mommy, you look so beautiful!” Peter exclaimed, his little voice filled with sincerity.
Pepper smiled warmly, holding him close, before Peter turned and added, “You too, Miss Natalie! You’re both the prettiest ever!”
Tony chuckled, standing up and running a hand through his hair. As much as he loved the scene unfolding before him, the lab was no place for it—especially with the faint glow of the holograms still flickering in the background, reminding him of the secret he was hiding. He didn’t want anyone looking too closely at what he was working on.
“I heard something about cheeseburgers?” Tony quipped, ushering them all toward the exit. He placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder, guiding him out of the lab. Once everyone had filed out, he quickly entered the code to lock the lab behind them, sealing away the evidence of his palladium problem for now.
As he followed them up the stairs, Tony’s heart felt just a little lighter, though the weight of his secret still lingered just below the surface.
🔻
She hadn’t meant to let Peter get so far ahead of her. Really, it wasn’t one of her finer moments. And for that, Natasha was grateful this mission was taking place in such an isolated environment. No S.H.I.E.L.D. agents were here to witness her being outsmarted by a child—Tony Stark’s child, no less. That was a secret she’d carry to her grave.
Natasha Romanoff outwitted by a seven-year-old? She almost smiled at the thought. Almost.
This was the kind of thing that would end up as inside jokes at S.H.I.E.L.D. if anyone ever found out, and Natasha wasn’t about to let her reputation be tarnished like that. She was a Black Widow for crying out loud. She’d fought men ten times Peter’s size, and more often than not, multiple at once. The fact that a pint-sized Stark had momentarily slipped through her fingers was something she'd have to live with.
It had started innocently enough. Pepper had just arrived back to the mansion and reminded them it was time to collect Tony from his lab. Simple task. But first, Peter had to wash his hands. He had nodded obediently enough when Pepper said it, but the second she turned her back, Peter made a break for the lab. Natasha had anticipated it, of course, and she easily snagged the back of his shirt, pulling him back with a firm but gentle hand.
“Peter,” she said, her voice calm but leaving no room for argument. “Hands first. Then we get your dad.”
Peter had given her an exaggerated huff, insisting that she lead the way to the bathroom. She didn’t miss the mischievous gleam in his eye but had humored him anyway.
Big mistake.
The second she turned toward the bathroom, Peter was off like a shot, sprinting toward the stairs that led down to Tony’s lab. For someone with such small legs, the kid was fast. Natasha could’ve caught him easily—hell, she could’ve overtaken him if she really tried—but maybe, just maybe, she’d let him get a little ahead of her. If it got her closer to Tony’s lab and his personal space, she’d take it.
The lab was one of the few places in the mansion that was off-limits to her as "Natalie Rushman." She’d been here for four days, and while she had ample time to observe Tony as a father and CEO, she hadn’t set foot inside his lab once. Every time she tried, something pulled her back—the man’s boundaries, or more precisely, Pepper’s boundaries, were hard to navigate. But now Peter had given her an excuse, and she wasn’t about to waste it.
By now, Natasha had a pretty clear picture of Tony Stark the father. Her report, at least the rough draft in her head, was starting to take shape.
Tony Stark: a hero to his son... and potentially to the world.
It was a working draft, of course, but it was an honest reflection of what she’d observed. In just five days, she’d seen the way Tony and Peter looked at each other—as if the other hung the moon and the stars. It was the kind of bond Natasha hadn’t expected to find, and certainly not between someone like Stark and a child. Tony, for all his bravado and media-given titles, was utterly devoted to Peter, and Peter adored his father in a way that was... disarming.
And Pepper? Tony looked at her with the same intensity. The woman had her own gravitational pull in Tony’s life, and the trio—Tony, Peter, and Pepper—wasn’t what Natasha had expected.
If you’d asked her before all of this, she would have told you that two weeks as the fourth wheel in the Stark family dynamic would be hell on earth. But it wasn’t. Not even close. Tony and Pepper had gone out of their way to be nothing but welcoming and kind. Accommodating, even. It was pleasant, almost familial, and it was throwing Natasha off more than anything.
Focus, Romanoff, she reminded herself.
She paused on the staircase, letting Peter run ahead. The doors to the lab were open just enough for her to catch the tail end of a conversation between Tony and JARVIS. Something about blood toxicity.
Her brow furrowed slightly, her mind filing away the information even as she stepped down the last few stairs.
Natasha paused just inside the entrance of the lab, her senses immediately honing in on the faint hum of machinery and the familiar sterile scent of metal and tech that clung to the room. The space itself was a marvel—sleek, modern, yet lived in. Holograms of blueprints and data flickered above workstations, and pieces of Tony’s latest projects were scattered across the counters in organized chaos. Her sharp gaze flitted casually over everything, taking in far more than she let on.
Natasha didn’t miss the way Tony’s posture stiffened when Peter burst in, nor did she miss the flash of something dark and frustrated in his eyes as he glanced at the projections before quickly dismissing them.
Natasha put on her best perturbed face as she entered the lab behind Peter, masking the flicker of curiosity she felt at the sight of the data. Blood toxicity? She'd need to look into that.
She didn’t look directly at the screens for too long, careful to maintain her cover as the disinterested nanny. But her peripheral vision and years of experience were enough. The word palladium flashed in her mind, along with several lines of chemical breakdowns, medical reports, and—most concerningly—blood toxicity percentages.
The percentage was higher than it should have been. Way higher.
A knot formed in her stomach as she pieced together the fragments of information. Palladium poisoning. Natasha’s mind worked quickly, cataloging the data while keeping her body language relaxed. Palladium. The core of Tony’s arc reactor was made from it, surely.
The arc reactor is keeping him alive, but the palladium is killing him.
Her throat tightened, but she kept her face neutral, glancing down at her fingernails as though the data on Tony’s screens wasn’t anything of interest.
The palladium was slowly poisoning Tony’s blood. She clenched her jaw. Damned if he does, damned if he doesn’t.
A couple hours later, in the confines of her private suite on the opposite side of Stark’s mansion, Natasha could finally let her guard down—just a little. She sat on the edge of the bed, her encrypted S.H.I.E.L.D. phone resting in her lap, her fingers hovering over the screen.
She exhaled slowly, her mind going back to the holograms in Tony’s lab. The data on palladium. The rising toxicity levels. It all came rushing back, the weight of it settling on her chest like a stone. Tony was dying, and Natasha had no doubt he was keeping it from everyone.
She opened her phone, her fingers moving swiftly across the screen as she began searching for palladium and its effects on the human body. It didn’t take long to find what she was looking for.
Palladium poisoning—headaches, weakness, fatigue, nausea, cognitive impairment. All treatable in most cases.
Her stomach twisted as the implications sank in deeper. Palladium poisoning would continue to build in his system, spreading through his bloodstream, until his body couldn’t take it anymore. The arc reactor—the very thing keeping him alive—was also killing him. The more palladium the reactor exposed him to, the more toxins would infiltrate his blood.
For anyone else, it might have been as simple as removing the source of the poisoning. But for Tony, the source was embedded in his chest. Without the arc reactor, he would die. With it, he would die too—just more slowly.
Natasha closed her eyes for a moment, her grip tightening around the phone. She had always been prepared for difficult missions, for hard decisions. But watching this unfold? Watching a man like Tony Stark slowly poison himself to death? That was something else entirely.
She straightened, her mind made up. There was no more time for speculation or observation. She needed to inform Fury.
With practiced precision, she dialed Fury’s number, the familiar beep of the encrypted line connecting making her shoulders tense. She put the phone to her ear, waiting only a few seconds before his voice came through the line.
“Romanoff. What do you have?”
Her voice was steady, but the gravity of her words weighed heavily between them. “It’s worse than we thought, Fury. Stark is dying.”
There was a brief silence on the other end before Fury responded. “Explain.”
Natasha took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. “His arc reactor. It’s keeping him alive, but the palladium it’s made from is poisoning his blood. There’s no way to treat it because the source is... part of him. It’s only a matter of time before it kills him.”
Fury didn’t respond immediately, and Natasha could practically hear the wheels turning in his mind.
“How much time are we talking?” Fury finally asked, his tone clipped.
“I don’t have exact numbers yet, but the toxicity levels I saw today were high. He’s hiding it—Peter, Pepper, they don’t know. He’s keeping it to himself.”
Fury let out a long breath, the tension palpable even through the phone. “Damn it, Stark. Of course he’s hiding it. He’s too proud to ask for help.”
Natasha pressed her lips together. “That’s the problem. He won’t ask for help, but he needs it. This isn’t something he can fix on his own.”
Another pause, and then Fury’s voice dropped lower, more serious. “Do you think he’s still a candidate for the Initiative?”
Natasha hesitated for a split second. The mission had been to evaluate Tony for his suitability for the Avengers, but now the situation was more complicated than that. This wasn’t just about whether Tony Stark was capable of being part of a team—it was about whether he’d even survive long enough to consider it.
“I don’t know yet,” Natasha admitted. “He’s a hero to his son, that much is clear. And he’s doing everything he can to be better—for Peter, for Pepper. But this? This changes things. I need more time to see how far he’s willing to go to fix it. If he can fix it.”
“Understood,” she replied.
The line went dead, leaving Natasha sitting alone in the dimly lit room, her thoughts swirling.
Tony Stark had built his life around control—controlling his image, his inventions, his destiny. But this? This was something he couldn’t control. And if Natasha had learned anything in her years as an operative, it was that men like Tony Stark didn’t go down without a fight.
But the real question was: would he ask for help before it was too late?
🌶️
Pepper stood at the edge of Peter’s bed, watching him sleep peacefully under the soft glow of his nightlight. Bedtime had become a delicate routine, a test of patience and endurance over the past couple of weeks. They were trying to transition Peter into his own room—an endeavor that felt far more challenging than either she or Tony anticipated. Though Peter adored his new room, full of toys and decorations that made it uniquely his, the concept of sleeping alone still seemed foreign to him. Every night, without fail, Peter found his way back to their bed, tiny feet padding softly across the hall before crawling in between her and Tony.
Pepper exhaled softly. In truth, neither she nor Tony had really pushed back too hard on this nightly ritual. There was something soothing about having Peter nestled safely between them, the warmth of his small body a physical reminder that he was okay, that they were okay. Sure, the house was fortified by the most advanced AI system on the planet, designed to protect them and alert them if something were wrong, but that didn’t hold a candle to the visceral comfort of feeling Peter's breath rise and fall beside her.
There was also something bittersweet about it. She also longed for the intimacy of just her and Tony in bed—those private, quiet moments that were rare since Peter was such a huge part their lives. Not that she minded, of course. But every so often, she longed for the nights when it was just the two of them, when they could be carefree adults. Yet, that conversation would have to wait. Peter came first. Always.
Pepper closed the book she had been reading to him and placed it on the nightstand with a gentle touch. She bent down, pressing a soft kiss to Peter’s forehead, lingering just long enough to take in the peaceful expression on his face. For now, he was out cold. She tiptoed out of the room, leaving the door cracked just enough for her to hear if he needed her. As she walked down the hallway, a quiet smile tugged at her lips. Sometimes it felt surreal—this life, this family. She had gone from sleeping alone in a guest suite on the opposite side of the penthouse to now sharing a bed with Tony Stark and co-parenting his son.
Sliding into her side of the bed, Pepper glanced over at Tony, her smile widening. He looked up briefly, setting his StarkPad aside. His expression was distant, and the wear of the last few months still clung to him, even in the sanctuary of their bedroom. He had been off lately, not just today but for weeks. Pepper had chalked it up to the stress of adjusting—coming back after three months of captivity, trying to reclaim a sense of normalcy while simultaneously navigating the responsibilities of fatherhood and the chaos at Stark Industries.
“He’s out cold,” she said, settling into the pillows.
Tony gave a small, absent nod, running a hand through his hair. "Oh, is he now?" His voice had a hint of amusement, but it didn’t fully reach his eyes.
He pulled her toward him, his hands slipping to her waist as he maneuvered her to straddle him. But instead of his usual playful smirk, there was a seriousness in his eyes that gave her pause.
"I wanted to talk to you about something," Tony said, his tone shifting into something deeper, more contemplative.
Pepper blinked, momentarily thrown off. That was not the direction she expected this to go, especially not with her sitting on top of him. She studied his face, searching for any sign of what was going on in his head, but his expression remained neutral, even a little guarded.
"Okay," she said slowly, curiosity edging her voice.
Tony’s gaze dropped for a moment as if he were gathering his thoughts, and Pepper felt the familiar weight of anticipation. She knew that look well—Tony was processing, thinking through how to say what was on his mind. He cleared his throat, then exhaled heavily.
"I know this whole thing... us... it all kind of happened fast," he began, his voice softer. "Between us getting together and suddenly being parents... it’s a lot." He paused, and Pepper let him. She knew he needed space to find the right words. "But I’ve been thinking about something... about Peter. And, I know this might sound a little crazy... but I think we should make you his legal guardian. On paper. His mom."
The words hit her like a gentle shockwave. For a moment, Pepper just blinked, her brain trying to catch up with what Tony had just said. Sure, Peter had started calling her "Mommy" not long after she and Tony had solidified their relationship. It had come so naturally, like a missing piece falling into place. She hadn’t minded it at all—if anything, she loved it. But this?
Pepper’s brow furrowed slightly as she chewed her bottom lip. "I mean..." she started, her voice thoughtful, "I don’t think that’s a bad idea, but... what brought this on?"
Tony gave a half-hearted smile, though there was little warmth behind it. His hands slid down to hers, holding them gently, rubbing his thumbs over the backs of her hands. "I was just thinking about Iron Man. About being kidnapped again... and if something happened to me..." He trailed off for a moment, his voice growing quieter. "I need to make sure Peter’s with you. I don’t want him to end up in the system. I need him safe. With you."
Tony's words hung between them. Pepper hadn’t expected this conversation tonight—this level of seriousness—but here they were. It wasn’t just a practical idea. It was Tony’s way of ensuring Peter’s safety if the worst were to happen, something he clearly had been thinking about for a while.
Pepper took a long moment to process, her mind whirling with the implications. It was more than just paperwork. It was a commitment—a bond that she could never, and would never, undo. Peter wasn’t just Tony’s son anymore. He had become her son, too, in every sense that mattered. And she couldn’t imagine her life without him now, not even in the darkest of circumstances.
After a moment of quiet reflection, she finally nodded, her decision clear in her mind. "Okay," she said, her voice firm yet soft.
Tony’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. "Okay?" he echoed as if he hadn’t expected her to agree so easily.
Pepper leaned down, pressing her lips softly against his. "Okay," she repeated, her voice a little more tender this time. "I’m his mom. I want to be his mom."
She pulled back slightly, her expression more serious as she locked eyes with him. "But you’re not allowed to leave us, okay?"
Tony grinned up at her, his hands tightening their grip on her waist before pulling her down into another kiss. "Deal," he murmured against her lips, though Pepper knew it wasn’t a promise he could truly make. But for now, that was enough.