And Then There Is You

Tony eventually goes downstairs and finds his mom cooking in the kitchen so he walks over to join her, running a tired hand through his hair. 

She turns to him once he comes around the corner. “Oh. Hi, honey. Is Peter sleeping?” 

“Yeah. I’ll let him sleep until 3 o’clock or so.” He opens the fridge and pulls out a cold water bottle, taking a big sip. It feels good on his throat. He sometimes forgets how muggy Italy is in the summer. 

“I’m cooking some lunch. Does Peter like fish?” 

“No, he won’t even touch it.” Tony picks up the meal planner that his mother made for them for these two weeks with Tony’s suggestions of what Peter does and doesn’t eat. “Fish isn’t even on here, mom. I told you he doesn’t like it.” 

“I know.” She sighs, guilty. “Your father suggested that I cook it anyways for him. He’s a picky eater, Antonio. And for a small frame like him, it wouldn’t hurt to put more weight on. How much does he weigh?” 

Tony thinks about it. With the spider bite making Peter’s bone density significantly lighter than a ‘normal’ boy, it puts Peter’s weight at just over fifty pounds. But it’s not like he can tell his mom that without her freaking out. “He weighs seventy pounds.” 

“Well, I looked it up and the pediatricians recommend that 13-year old boys weigh 75-100 pounds. That’s already five pounds underweight.” 

“Mom, I already told you…” Tony takes a breath to try and not freak out at her. “Look, mom, I love you and I really do appreciate your concern but when I tell you Peter’s healthy, you have to trust me. I wouldn’t be starving my son or-or bringing him here if he was malnourished and sick. He’s fine, mom. He’s always been a tiny boy, when he’s eighteen he’ll probably have a growth spurt and plump up. But for now, I’m going to enjoy him being my little boy and you should too.” 

Maria smiles, going back to looking through the fridge. “Right, honey. I’m sorry. I’m just not used to having a little one in the house. It’s been so long.” She pulls out beef burgers and sets it down on the counter. “He does like cheeseburgers, doesn’t he?” 

Tony laughs. “Yes, he does.” 

“Dad?” 

Tony spins around, surprised to see Peter leaning against the doorway, looking tired still. “Hey. Why are you up?” He crosses the distance between them, brushes the curls out of his eyes. 

“Cause… I’m not tired anymore.” He walks past his dad and climbs up onto the kitchen stool, sitting on his knees. “What’re you making?” 

Maria looks between Tony and Peter, hesitating before answering the boy. “I’m cooking lunch. Want to guess what it is?” 

“Cheeseburgers!” 

“Clever boy. How did you know?” 

“Cause it’s there! The box of burgers.” He sits up, pointing at it. Tony sits down next to him, pulling him onto his lap, letting Peter nuzzle into him. 

“Are you sure you’re not tired? You didn’t sleep for that long.” 

“He slept the whole car ride back, Antonio. Peter, honey, want to help grandma make lunch?” 

Tony stands up, gently placing Peter on his feet. “After he gets dressed he can do whatever he wants.” Peter turns to look up at him, placing his chin just under Tony’s rib cage as he looks up. “Want me to come up with you?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Okay. We’ll be back, mom.” 

Skipping ahead, Peter jumps up the stairs one by one, getting to the top before Tony does and going to their bedroom. “You’re so slow. Walk faster, dad.” 

“You’re too fast for me.” 

Peter stands next to Tony, putting their leg’s together. “But your leg is taller than mine which means you can take like two steps faster than me.” 

“Okay, Spider-Man.” Tony teases, giving him a gentle push that Peter quickly bounces back from. He moves over to the dresser where he grabs the wipes and pats Peter’s butt with them when he walks by. “Here. Go into the bathroom. Want me to get you pants? Or a bathing suit?” 

“Ummm…” Peter climbs onto the bed, falling onto his back. “Ummmm ummm ummmm… you pick.” 

“Bathing suit it is then. While grandma makes lunch, did you want to go for a walk? Just us two. You can show me where grandma took you.” 

Peter nods but doesn’t make any move to get up. “We can go to the secret beach. There’s like a secret passage or something.” 

“A secret passage? Do you remember how to get there?” 

“I think so, yeah.” 

“We can go as soon as you get pants on.” Tony encourages again, handing him the package of wipes. 

Peter pushes it out of his hands. “No, I want you to do it here.” 

Tony pauses. Peter’s not sleeping nor does he need Tony to do it for him. He grabs his legs and pulls him towards the edge of the bed. “I can help you in the bathroom if you want.” 

“No. Here.” 

“Buddy, you aren’t a baby so you don’t need me to.” Tony sighs and sits on the bed, rubbing a hand over his stomach. He expects things like this to happen after May died. Peter’s therapist had explained that part of Peter getting comfortable with him and being able to trust Tony may result in Peter age regressing a bit, wanting Tony to care for him to feel safe. Having the adult he sees as his father, take care of him. Since Tony wasn’t around to care for Peter as a young child, Peter unconsciously reverts back to that stage, wanting Tony to care for him in those ways to feel loved and safe. 

Tony just doesn’t know how to react to it, knowing it’s completely normal for what Peter’s been through but not knowing what exactly to do in this situation without upsetting Peter. 

“Do you want me to come into the bathroom with you?” 

Peter shakes his head. 

“Okay.” Tony tries to quickly think about what to say next. “How about stand up in front of the bed and I’ll help you?” 

Peter sighs and rolls onto his stomach, groaning and sitting up on his knees, turning around to face his dad. “You’re mean.” 

“Why?” That hurts more to hear than Tony thought. He hates upsetting Peter but he has to learn to not give in every time. He needs to set boundaries with Peter. 

“Cause… you’re just mean. I just wanted you to help me.” He pouts, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Baby.” Tony reaches for him, “I will help you. But I think it’ll be better if you aren’t lying down on the bed.” He pulls Peter closer to him. “Hmm? Don’t you think?” 

“I don’t know.” 

Tony feels bad now. He doesn’t know what to do. “How about we both change into a bathing suit and then we go for a walk? Sound good?” 

Peter nods, rubbing his eyes. Tony resists the urge to sigh. Yep. Definitely still tired. Something woke him up and instead of trying to fall back asleep, he came downstairs to search for Tony, resulting in a very tired and cranky boy pretty soon. 

He stands up and pulls Peter into the bathroom with the wipes, shutting the door behind them. “Do you want me to help you?” 

Instead of answering, Peter picks up Tony’s razor. “Dad, can I shave my face?” 

“No. You don’t even have any facial hair yet.” He takes it from him, setting it back down. 

“When will I grow a beard like you?” 

Tony fake gasps and sits on the edge of the bathtub, pulling Peter to stand in front of him. “Are you trying to grow up on me, huh?” He pokes his side, making him squeal. 

“Yeah.” He giggles out. 

“Not on my watch. I think I’m going to have to invent time travel so every time you start growing up, I’m just gonna press a button and you’ll shrink back to being this small again.” He teases him, poking his side again and reaching for the sides of the pull-up, ripping it off. 

“Then you’ll get small too and then you’ll be a baby.” Peter laughs, finding the conversation amusing. 

Taking a wipe out of the package, Tony looks at him, seeing the grin on his adorable innocent face. “Not possible. I’ll make sure you’re the only person affected by my Time Machine.” 

“Dad.” Peter laughs. “Time Machines don’t work that way. Everyone has to go back in time.” 

“Well then it sounds like I have a lot of work to do.” He finishes up and picks up the solid pull-up, throwing it in the garbage and washing his hands. “Can you go pick out what bathing suit you want to wear. I put all our clothes away.” 

Peter walks into the bedroom, looking around but not seeing his bathing suit. “Dad? Where’s my bathing suit?” 

“Did you even look?” 

Tony picks up some dirty towels and tosses them in the hamper, walking into the bedroom to open the drawer but there’s a knock at the door and a second later his mother walks in, holding a cupcake in her hand. “Mom. Hi.” 

She walks in, pausing when she spots Peter half dressed. “Oh. I can come back.” 

Tony looks back at Peter who doesn’t seem to care in the slightest so he walks over to the dresser. “It’s okay, mom. Come in. We’re just getting our bathing suits on.” 

Maria walks in and takes a seat on the window bench, holding a hand out for Peter. “Here you go, honey. Our neighbours made us some cupcakes and this one is for you.” 

Tony walks over. “Did they say that one specifically is for Peter?” 

“Well… they’re all the same. But I’m giving this one to him.” Maria hands it to the boy but Tony takes it from him. “Antonio.” 

“Heyyy! My cupcake. Dad.” Peter snaps his head around to glare at this father. That’s his treat. 

“Peter. I don’t know who made these. It’s not safe to eat food from strangers.” He walks over and places it on top of a high dresser that Peter can’t reach. Although Tony knows Peter will have no problem climbing it to get to the cupcake. 

“They’re neighbours. Not strangers!” 

“Okay. What’s their names?” 

Peter hesitates. “Umm… Mr… Italian man.” 

Whereas Maria starts laughing, Tony has to hide his laugh so Peter doesn’t think he’s joking. “No, Peter. That’s a big rule we have. If I don’t know them and you don’t, then you don’t accept food or drinks from them.” 

“But… it’s a cupcake treat.” 

“I’ll buy you cupcakes. Not these. I’m sorry.” Tony feels bad, he does. But he’s not taking any risks. He grabs swimming briefs from the dresser and hands them to Peter but when he turns back around, he sees Peter’s face scrunch up and then he’s crying. “Oh, baby. Don’t be upset-” 

“Antonio.” His mother snaps. “Non dirgli di non arrabbiarsi. Che invalidare i suoi sentimenti.” (Don't tell him not to get angry. Than to invalidate his feelings) 

“Mom.” Tony leans down to hug Peter. His mom does have a point. He sighs and picks Peter up instead, rocking him side to side. “Peter, I’m sorry. I know you want to eat the cupcake and I understand that you’re upset that I told you you can’t eat it. But it’s dangerous because I don’t know them. I’ll get you a cupcake. Okay? After we come back from our walk, a cupcake will be waiting here for you. What kind do you want?” 

Peter wipes his snotty nose on Tony’s shoulder. “Chocolate… with-with vanilla icing. But blue. No. Red.” 

“Okay. I’ll get that for you. Hey. I don’t like it when you cry, bubs. I’m sorry.” 

Peter pulls away to look at him, wiping his tears away with his own shirt this time. He then reaches for the cupcake on the dresser, taking advantage of being so high up but Tony’s quicker. “Sneaky boy.” 

Giving a small mischievous grin, Peter wiggles out of his fathers arms and walks over to his grandmother, holding his hand out. “I want another cupcake, grandma.” 

Maria looks over him to her son. “Stai insegnando Peter che deve avere paura di ogni persona che incontra. Non si fiderà di nessuno.” (You're teaching Peter that he has to be afraid of every person he meets. He won't trust anyone) 

Tony sighs and makes eye contact with Peter who looks at him, obviously hearing them speaking Italian but not understanding them. He feels bad but he doesn’t want Peter to understand him. “Mamma ha bisogno di imparare a non essere così fiducioso con gli estranei. Sto cercando di insegnargli. Ma non aiuta quando gli lanci un cupcake in faccia.” (Mom he needs to learn not to be so trusting around strangers. I'm trying to teach him. But it doesn't help when you throw a cupcake in his face) 

Peter looks up at Tony with curious eyes and it makes Tony feel so guilty. “Come put your bathing suit on, baby. Let’s go for a walk.” 

Peter walks over to his dad, using his arm for support then he steps in, looking over at his grandmother. “Is you-are you coming?” 

“Where are you going?” 

“To the secret pathway to the beach. But-but only I know the way.” 

Maria smiles and stands up. “Of course I’ll come. Let me go get my hat.” 

Tony watches her leave then pulls Peter back between his legs. “I’m sorry for speaking Italian in front of you.” 

“It’s okay. It sounds like blaaa mocha gluu patcha dia poo poo pee pee.” 

Tony laughs. He pressed a kiss to his soft forehead then pats his butt. “Get out of here.” He teases, standing up to walk into the bathroom with his own bathing suit to change into. 

Watching his dad disappear into the bathroom, Peter stays for a few seconds then walks out of the bathroom, walking down the hallway to wait for everyone by the front door but his grandma calls him over. 

“Peter. Come in here. Is your dad ready yet?” 

“He’s changing in the bathroom.” Peter walks to the other side of the hallway that he hasn’t been to before. The master bedroom has two double doors and he’s suddenly curious to look inside. “Is this your room?” 

“It is. You haven’t seen it yet, have you?” 

Peter shakes his head and walks in. There’s a massive bed in the middle of the room with three stairs to walk up to it. Off to the side are bay windows, brightening up the room with natural sunlight. Whereas his dads and his room face the ocean, their room looks out onto the front yard. Peter stands by the window, looking out with amazement. He could see the long driveway leading up to the house with the trees covering it. It feels like he’s standing in a castle, although the whole house kind of looks like a castle. 

Maria takes a seat on the bed so Peter walks up to stairs and climbs onto it, sitting in the middle of it. “It’s big. But my dads bed at home is bigger. It’s this big!” He stretches his arms out to show, obviously not doing a very good visual. 

“When your father was a little boy, he used to come crawling into our bed at nights. In this exact room.” 

Peter likes hearing stories of his dad when he was little. “Cause he had bad dreams?” 

“Sometimes. But mostly he liked to come in here to be with us.” She smiles. “Do you sleep with your dad at home too?” 

“Sometimes. If I have bad dreams. Or-or if it’s thunder outside.” He stretches his legs out on the bed. “When I was littler I used to sleep with my aunt May and uncle Ben before.” 

“Oh.” This is the first time Maria’s heard Peter talk about his dead relatives. “Did you?” 

Peter nods and falls back on the bed, bringing his feet up over his head. “Are we going on our walk now? And-and I wanna go swimming too. In the secret ocean. But I want to lead the way. Pretend that you don’t know where it is. Okay, grandma?” 

“Alright, honey.” 

“I was wondering where you went.” Tony announces, walking into the room and standing by the end of the bed. “Why am I not surprised your grandmother took you.” He shakes his head fondly at the two then walks around to sit down, reaching out to pat his boy's bum. “You ready for our walk?” 

“Grandma said you used to come in here at night when you were little.” 

Tony only remembers doing that when his father was out of town for a few days. Otherwise his father would have yelled at him to grow up and go sleep in his own room. “I did sometimes.” 

“Cause you had bad dreams?” 

“I don’t remember why, bubs, maybe I did.” 

Peter sits up. “Oh. Maybe.” He slides off the bed and grabs Tony’s hand, leaning fully back. “Let’s go. Let’s go.” 

Five minutes later, they are leaving the property and Peter is walking ahead, turning around every so often to make sure they are still following him. He stops at the end of the road and waits for them to catch up. 

“Thanks for waiting, kid. Which way now?” Tony asks, ruffling his hair. Although it’s true Tony doesn’t know the secret path Peter’s talking about, he knows he could probably find it if he desperately had to. Still, he lets Peter take the lead. 

“This way.” Peter announces and walks up the street. 

“It’s so nice we get to do this. We don’t get to go for walks at home like this.” Tony says. “I mean, we can but it’ll consist of people following us, taking pictures then the paparazzi will show up… it’s just really nice.” 

Maria loops her arm in Tony’s. “Antonio, that makes me sad. I want Peter to experience this all the time. Not just here. Why don’t you move here? You guys can get a house on this street. We’ll be able to see Peter whenever… it’ll be so perfect.” 

“It’s not that simple, mom. I have a company to run. I can’t do that here. And Peter has school, what about his friends?” 

“He’ll make new friends here. And you can homeschool him or send him to another school here. A safe one.” She bumps into him on purpose. “And I’ll always be here to watch him, any time you need some help.” 

Although it sounds like a good idea, Tony knows it’s not. “Thank you, ma. But no. We need to go home and get into a routine. It wouldn’t be fair to take Peter away from that.” 

“But he’ll have us. Family is important, Antonio.” 

Tony sighs. He watches Peter walk along the sidewalk, clearly in his own world as he strolls along. 

“I know that, mom. We just can’t move to Italy. Our home is in New York.” 

Maria doesn’t reply for a few moments. It makes Tony feel bad but his hands are tied. He can’t move them to Italy. 

“So when will I see him again? I’m not waiting until Christmas for you to bring him here. He’s so young and I know he’s going to grow up way too fast and… you already grew up way too fast. I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that my baby has a baby.” 

Tony wraps an arm around his moms shoulders. “Mom. Don’t do this. I’ll take him up to visit before Christmas if we can. But you can always fly out to New York. You can take my plane, you’ll be there in no time. Then you can see where Peter will grow up, maybe meet his friends.” 

Maria thinks about it. “We can’t take walks like this there. You know I hate New York. It’s way too busy and the air is thick.” 

Although she does have a point, they can work around it. “I can have Happy come out with us. Usually people don’t bother me when he’s there. And I’d you want more, I have more security that can follow us. People will still stare and take pictures but they won’t bother us.” 

“If you’re going to keep me from my baby, then I might just have to come.” 

“Mom. I’m not keeping you from him. You’re welcome to see him anytime. You know that.” 

Maria pats Tony on the chest then walks away from him, running ahead to walk next to Peter. Tony can’t help but smile, sure, it’s cute. He’s just so happy to see his parents and his son getting close and Peter not being shy in front of them. 

Eventually, he joins them and turns a corner, looking down a rocky, muddy pathway that he assumes leads to the beach. “Is this the secret pathway?” 

Peter nods. “Yeah. But it’s muddy this time. Last time it wasn’t muddy.” He jumps onto the first rock, making Tony’s heart speed up. 

“Be careful, Peter.” He shakes his head at him. This boy. “Are you okay to go down it, mom?” 

She gives him an offended look. “Do I look that old? I’m fine. Right, Peter?” 

“Yes.” He grins and steps down to the other rock, stopping to squat down and place his hands into the mud puddle. “Look, dad! It looks like poop!” 

Tony just shakes his head. Ever since he’s known the kid, he’s had a conversation about poop at least once a day. Before Peter, he didn’t think he’d actually engage in such an odd topic but here he is, looking into a mud puddle that his son's hands are in. Nice. “Pete, you know, an animal might have actually pooped in there.” 

Peter pulls his hands out and wipes it on the rock next to him, sliding on his butt to the next rock. “I need to pee, dad. Can I pee in the mud puddle?” 

“Can you wait until we get down to the beach?” 

Peter grabs himself between his legs. “Noo. It’s an emergency.” 

He walks down to Peter and holds a hand out to help him up. “Alright. Go on that tree there.” He pulls him to his feet, gesturing to the tree but Peter has other ideas. 

“I want to go on the rock.” He says, sitting back down on it. 

Tony knows better than to question it. He looks in both directions but doesn’t see anyone. “Alright. Want to stand up at least?” 

Before Peter can answer, he’s already pulling himself out and going so Tony chuckles and turns back to his mom, laughing. From her angle, she can’t see but she gets the idea and starts laughing too. Sometimes Tony thinks Peter does these things just to entertain him. 

“Dad. Look.” 

“Oh, buddy, I can’t wait to tell this story at your wedding.” Tony laughs and when Peter finishes up, Tony holds his hand out for him, pulling him up to his feet. “Better?” 

“Uh huh. Now I’m lighter.” He jumps down to the same rock Tony’s on and holds onto his arm, pointing towards the ocean that isn’t quite visible yet. “Dad? The oceans that way. Can I run?” 

Tony immediately wants to say no but he knows Peter is more capable than he likes to admit and not being able to be Spider-Man right now is difficult for him. At least it was when Tony told him he couldn’t show up fighting crime in Italy. 

“You can but you have to stop at the bottom until we get down. Okay?” 

“Okay!” Before Tony can even tell him to be careful, Peter’s booking it down to the beach, moving quicker than humanly possible it seems. 

Tony turns to look at his mom. “He’s got a lot of energy.” 

“I’ve noticed. How did you ever manage to keep up with him at home by yourself all this time?” 

Tony doesn’t know if it’s a question or a statement. It sounds more like a judgmental statement. “I do have help, mom. I’m not alone with him 24/7 at home. I’ve got the Avengers to help. And Pepper. Happys always available to help out, even if he insists he’s not a babysitter, I know he loves the kid.” 

Maria looks unimpressed. “The Avengers? Antonio, I don’t know. I don’t like the idea of Peter hanging around them. He’s so impressionable at this age and… it’s just not good.” 

“If there’s anyone he’s safe with besides me, it’s the Avengers. He has all of them wrapped around his baby finger.” 

“Still. I don’t want Peter growing up like them. And you. I hate that you’re Iron Man. It scares me.” She admits for what seems like the millionth time. 

“Mom. I’m probably the most protected in my suit than any of them. I’m fine.” This is just even more reason that his parents must not find out Peter is Spider-Man. 

Maria walks down onto the last rock. “But you’re not a superhuman. You’re just a human. And a father now.” 

Pepper tells him that every chance she gets. “You sound like someone I know.” He smiles as they get to the bottom where Peter’s waiting by a tree. Tony thanks him for waiting and let’s him run ahead now. 

“Who’s that? Pepper?” His mom asks as they start slowly walking down towards the water. 

Tony’s not surprised his mom knows who he’s talking about. “Yeah.” A smile forms on his lips at the thought of her. It doesn’t go unnoticed by his mom. 

“Hmm. Why didn’t she come? I think she’s a very beautiful woman. And intelligent. She has a good head on her shoulders.” 

“I wanted this to be a trip about Peter only. Plus she couldn’t have come anyways. You know she’s the CEO of SI now?” 

“I know. Your father and I think you made a very good choice with that.” She says and it feels good for Tony to hear. “How is she with Peter?” 

The question brings a smile to his face. “She’s amazing. And Peter absolutely adores her. She’s the only person who can actually get him to fall asleep besides me. She just has this special, gentle touch with him.” 

“That’s so great, Tony, I’m so glad. Will you marry her?” 

The question surprises Tony a bit at the randomness of it. “Uh, mom. I don’t know. I can’t even think about marriage right now with Peter and everything.” 

“It’ll be good for Peter to have a mother, Antonio.” 

Tony sighs. The thought makes him sad. The reminder of everyone Peter’s loss. “I’m enough for him. He’s happy. He’s getting there.” 

“Are you sleeping with her, Antonio?” 

Tony doesn’t know why his mom is asking about his sex life. He shakes his head at the blunt question but he’s not 18, he can be honest with her. “I am.” 

“I thought so. But you’re not dating?” 

“No. Not anymore. She broke up with me because… well because of Iron Man but I won’t be with anyone but her. And I don’t want her dating anyone else of course.” 

“Because she doesn’t agree with you being Iron Man either?” 

Tony nods. “Part of the reason. And, well, she says I can be a bit possessive of her. But I’m working on it.” 

Maria let’s out a low laugh. “I know that. I see you that way with Peter. It’s a Stark thing, your father is the same way.” 

It doesn’t help to know that Tony’s picked up that trait from his father but it doesn’t surprise him either. “I know. I just need to protect the ones I love, is that so bad.” 

“No, Antonio. I don’t think so. Just don’t scare her away.” She gives him a firm pat on the back. “What does Peter say about you being Iron Man?” 

“He’s thirteen so he thinks it’s cool. But now that I’m his dad, I think he hates it.” 

“That doesn’t surprise me. The boy has lost enough.” 

That doesn’t make Tony feel any better. He sighs. “Mom. I’m not going to talk about this right now. I’m sorry.” He kisses her on the cheek then leaves, walking over to Peter and standing behind him as he bends down to dig up something in the sand. He turns around, holding up the shell to show his father. 

“It’s shaped like a heart.” 

“Wow. It is.” 

“It’s for you.” 

“Wow. Thank you, baby. I love it. I’m going to keep it forever.” He squats down in the sand. “Do you want to go in the ocean?” 

Peter looks towards it, seeming to consider it then he shakes his head. “No. It’s okay. I wanna stay here.” 

So Tony sits in the sand, watching Peter dig a hole. He crawls in front of Tony and sits down in front of him. “Move your legs over so I can dig a hole here.” 

Out of all the many many places on the beach to dig a hole, Tony isn’t surprised that Peter wants to dig a hole right where he’s sitting. Tony moves his legs so Peter has space to sit. 

He watches him, the sound of the waves crashing into the shore is relaxing and Tony thinks that maybe it isn’t so bad if they move here. After all Peter would be close to family. Something he and the kid have in common is that they both don’t have any family. Whereas all Tony has are his parents left, Peter has literally no one. Not even cousins or anything. 

May used to have to ask her neighbour to babysit Peter when she had to work late and the woman could barely take care of herself, never mind a hyperactive child. So Tony began offering to take the kid for a few hours and some nights. At least if he couldn’t watch over Peter at the time, someone far more capable was always available to hang out for the kid for a bit, Pepper usually always volunteered her time. 

He smiles. He does miss her despite how much fun they’re having in Italy. 

He looks down at the boy, watching him dig in the sand and after taking a few pictures of him, he joins in. Digging a sand castle at the beach isn’t the most relaxing thing to do but it’s so much more worth it. 

.

.

.

“Dinners ready in five minutes!” Maria calls from the kitchen. It’s pouring rain out. It started to pour when they were on their way back from the beach and by the time they made it home, they were all drenched head to toe in rain water. But at least it was warm and they hadn’t been able to stop laughing the whole time. Definitely a core memory for Peter. 

Tony had to beg him to take a picture with him before he could run inside to dry off. Tony never wanted to forget that moment. And now he had a picture to always remember it. 

He walked into the kitchen to see if his mom needed help with anything, the smell of her famous lasagna hitting his nose, almost putting him into a food coma. “This smells delicious, mom.” 

She smiles at him, taking it out of the oven to let it sit for a few minutes. Okay. Maybe dinner will take longer than a five minute wait. “Thank you, baby. It’s the same recipe I used to cook for you when you were a little boy.” 

Tony remembers. So weird to think that now his son will eat it. “I can’t wait to eat it again. You’ll have to give me the recipe so I can cook it for Peter.” 

“Mm. He better like it. That boy may be adorable but he sure is picky.” 

Tony chuckles. He knows all about that. “Yeah. He’s used to grilled cheese and chicken nuggets. That’s all.” 

“Well… his father is Tony Stark. He better get used to eating better than that.” She says, taking plates from the cabinet and handing them to Tony. “We’ll eat in the dining room today. Can you please put a towel on the chair that Peter’s eating at? They’re white and I won’t be able to get the stain out. They don’t make them anymore, you know?” 

Tony doesn’t think it’s the best idea to let Peter eat there then to be honest. He knows the dining set his mother is talking about and although it wasn’t around when he was growing up, he knows how much his mom loves it. 

And of course it has to rain the day his mom makes lasagna, a messy, red sauce meal and Peter, who eats like a dog, god, Tony loves the boy but he can’t stay clean to save his life. 

“Mom, we should eat somewhere else. Peter’s not the… cleanest eater.” He puts it bluntly. 

Maria waves him off. “Nonsense. Just put a towel, Antonio. And come bring these in once you’re done setting the table. 

Tony doesn’t say anything. He sets the table, making sure to sit next to Peter to keep him from making a mess the best he can. Darn rain. He then grabs a beach towel and covers the chair Peter will be sitting in, hoping it’s enough. When he walks back into the kitchen, his mom is filling up one of Peter’s water bottles with grape juice. 

“Bring this too, honey. And then go get the other two and tell them dinner is ready.” 

.

.

.

In the other room, Peter sits by the window, building his legos as he listens to the rain fall outside. It’s relaxing and makes him want to close his eyes and sleep even though he’s not even tired in the slightest. 

He stacks one on top of the other then hands his grandpa some of the yellow pieces he’s collected for him. He can sense that the man isn’t too excited about the idea of building legos with him but thankfully he stays and at least tries to look entertained. 

“Here’s some more. Make sure to build it around the window and not on top because the floor needs to go on top.” Peter briefly explains then goes back to building his own tower. He’s enjoying hanging out with his grandfather since it’s barely been just the two of them alone together since the golf cart incident. 

Although Peter was a bit scared to be alone with the man, in fear of him lashing out at him again but now, he’s perfectly comfortable with being alone with his grandpa, knowing he isn’t going to yell at him again. 

He smiles at him when he catches his grandpa looking at him. 

“I’m almost done building it.” He says, turning the doorframe so Peter can see it. Peter leans down to get a better look. 

“Yeah. That’s good. But make sure to not use the reds. Cause I am.” 

He catches his grandpa looking at him again but this time he just goes back to building. They sit in comfortable silence for a few moments, the only sound filling the room is the sound of legos clicking together, before Howard breaks the silence with a question. “You’re a smart fella, do you know the difference between a millionaire and a billionaire?” 

The question takes Peter by surprise. “Um… a billion has nine zeros but a million only has six.” 

Although he’s not wrong, it isn’t the answer Howard expects. “Do you know which one your dad is?” 

Peter pauses, peeks an eye up at him then clicks the Lego piece on. “Um… a billionaire.” 

“Right. And do you know how many billions your father and Stark Industries are worth?” He asks, putting his full attention onto Peter now. The boy has no idea just what kind of power his last name means and Howard wants to know if Peter has any idea. 

Peter stretches his legs out in front of him. He sighs. “I dunno. Maybe… well, my teacher says it’s 12.” 

“What’s 12?” 

“Stark Industries.” 

Howard laughs. “No. Do you seriously think our company is only worth 12 billion?” 

“Ummm… I just dunno.” He just wants to build his legos. He knows his dad is rich, it’s no secret that Tony Stark is rich, his suits cost millions to make themselves. But Peter doesn’t really care to know exactly how much money Tony has, Peter grew up in the poor part of Queens in apartments his whole life. His wardrobe consisted of Goodwill clothes and clothes that Aunt May used to get from her co-workers at work. So he honestly doesn’t care about the money aspect of things. Tony’s the best dad ever, so that’s all Peter cares about. 

“Well, I’ll tell you that it’s worth way more than that.” He tells him, pausing to watch Peter’s reaction but the boy stays silent as he continues to build. “Do you know what the word heir means?” 

Peter tugs on his hair. 

That gets a laugh out of Howard. “Not that kind of hair. Heir. H-e-I-r. It means, you’re the heir to Stark Industries. So you’ll be taking over the company when you’re older.” 

Peter doesn’t really react so that tells Howard that he either doesn’t care or has no idea what he’s talking about. Maybe a little bit of both. 

“Being a Stark comes with a lot of responsibility, Peter. You do understand that, right?” 

Peter thinks back to what his Uncle had told him before he died. He stops to nod at his grandpa. Being a Stark means he shares the same last name as his father and he likes how that ties them closer together. He digs in the pile for more red pieces, stopping to turn at the footsteps walking into the room and smiling when he sees his dad walking in. “Hi.” 

“Hey, buddy.” Tony walks up to them and leans down behind Peter. “What are you building?” 

“A tower.” Peter answers. 

“Wow. Very cool.” He knows Peter has a thing for colour schemes so it’s no surprise to see his tower consisting of red and blue, Tony wonders why, he smiles to himself then looks at his fathers tower that is all white and yellow. Peter definitely made him do that. “Are you hungry?” 

“Starving.” His father jokes and stands up, stretching his back out with a loud grunt. Tony just chuckles at the question that wasn’t directed at him then holding his hand out to pull Peter into a standing position. 

“I’m hungry. Not starving though.” Peter says, walking ahead of them and turning the corner into the kitchen. He runs up to the kitchen island and leans over the counter, his feet lifting off the floor as he slips himself up onto it. “What are we eating?” 

“Lasagna.” His grandmother answers him, storing a port on the stove. “Do you like lasagna, honey?” 

Peter nods his head, getting off the counter fully to walk over to the stove and try to peek into the big tray but he’s too short. He lets out a halfhearted grunt at the inconvenience. 

“He’s had it before, mom. I made him a similar recipe back home a few times. Right, Pete?” Tony asks him as he gives his curly, sweaty hair a good ruffle. He needed a shower but that can wait until later tonight. 

Peter steps onto Tony’s feet, still trying to look into the glass tray and to try and get a better angle. Tony knows what he wants so he grabs him under the arms and lifts him up easily, letting him have a quick peek. 

“It smells good. It’s not spicy, is it?” 

Everyone knows he hates spicy food. Especially Tony. He learned that the hard way when he ordered firecracker chicken and rice for dinner one night and didn’t know whether to burst out laughing or be extremely concerned when Peter was basically having a meltdown at his inability to handle spicy food. He knows never to make that mistake again. 

“It’s not spicy, Pete. Don’t worry. How about you go wash your hands then come join us.” Tony places him on his feet, giving him a gentle shove out of the kitchen and towards the hallway where the bathroom is. 

Peter leaves, a bit reluctantly though. Tony shakes his head in amusement once he disappears then he turns to look over at the plate his mom is making for Peter. “Mom. That’s too much. He won’t eat all that then won’t eat anything at all.” 

“He’s a growing boy, Antonio. He needs to eat.” 

“And he will. But you’ll overwhelm him if you load his plate up like that. You know how he is.” 

His mom sighs. 

“È così esigente. È preoccupante. He bisogno di mangiare di più.” (he's so picky. it's concerning. He needs to eat more) His mom says, handing the plate to Tony. 

Tony puts some of the food back. He remembers being a little boy, a few years younger than Peter, when he hated what his mother had made for dinner sometimes but his father didn’t let him complain and made him finish his plate, despite being full. He always thinks of those moments whenever Peter says he doesn’t want to eat anymore and is full. It’s his kid's body, who is he to tell him to continue eating when he’s saying he’s full? 

“I know, mom. I told you why. He’ll get better.” He takes the plate into the dining room, already finding Peter in there with his father. He pulls the chair out with the towel on it and pats it. “Come sit on this one.” 

Peter looks at it. “Why?” 

“Because,” Tony exaggerates a grunt as he lifts Peter up and onto the chair with the towel draped over it. “you’re a messy child.” 

Peter squints his eyes to glare at him so Tony quickly adds, “Cute. But messy.” He ruffles his hair, loving when Peter gets that adorable look on his face. He knows his kid is trying to give him a dirty look but it comes out looking like a puppy dog. Tony raises his eyebrows at him and then Peter’s face morphs into a grin. 

“Peter,” Maria interrupts their staring. “after we eat, I was thinking that you and I could bake something together. What do you think?” 

Peter nods. “Yeah. That sounds like fun. Bake what?” He asks, watching as his dad puts a plate of something in front of him. He leans down closer, trying to get a better look at what’s in front of him. “Is it spicy?” 

Tony chuckles, it’s the same question he asked his mom just a few minutes ago. He ruffles his hair. “No, bubs. It’s not. Do you really think I’d let you eat anything spicy again?” 

Peter gives a snort and nods, teasing his father. “Uh yeah.” 

“Uh.” Tony turns to him, a look of fake betrayal on his face. “No. How about you tell your grandparents about that one time I fed you spicy food. Huh? Tell them.” He prompts, still getting that fluffy happy feeling in his chest at the mention of calling his parents his son’s grandparents. It feels pretty great being a father. 

The conversation soon breaks out into Peter telling the infamous story of the day Tony found out he hated spicy food and didn’t have a tolerance for it. Tony on the other hand loves it and has a high tolerance for it, not as high as Steve though. 

He loves watching his son talk, no shyness whatsoever as he speaks to Tony’s parents, elaborating on everything and anything he can think of. Sometimes Tony wonders what’s going on in his mind. 

The conversation drifts after awhile as they’re taking their last bites of dinner and then Peter speaks up, turning his attention to Tony. 

“Dad?” 

“Hmm?” Tony asks, chewing his last bite. 

“How much money are you worth?” 

The question takes Tony by surprise. Why is Peter asking him this and where did the curiosity come from? “Me? Or my company?” 

Peter seems to think about it. He looks at his grandpa then back at Tony. “Both. How much money is it?” 

Tony’s eyes land on his father. 

He has a feeling where Peter’s questions are coming from now. His father looks away from him, suddenly very interested in his napkin. “Di cosa stavi parlando con mio figlio nell'altra stanza, papà?” (what were you talking to my son about in the other room dad) Peter looks at Tony, then back at his grandpa. 

“Huh?” He questions. 

Tony sighs and caresses Peter’s face. This isn’t a conversation he wants to have with Peter randomly sitting at a dinner table. He needs to plan out this conversation with him. “Well, to answer your question, my company and I both have different net values.” 

“But-but what does that mean?” 

Tony looks at his dad, shaking his head at him then puts his attention back to Peter. “It just means how much money the company is worth and myself. You know my Iron Man suits are a few million each, right?” 

Peter nods, sitting up on his knees. “And the Spider-Man suit.” 

Tony tries to stop the slight terror appearing on his face. He nods, trying to remain calm on the outside even though his heart began racing on the inside at Peter almost outing himself as freaking Spider-Man. He moves his arm down that was across the back of Peter’s chair down to his lap, giving the boy's thigh a firm squeeze and hoping he understands the gesture that’s telling him to shut the hell up. 

“Yeah, it is. Spider-Man needs a good suit. Just like Captain America and Falcon and everyone.” He tries to cover it up, not daring to glance at his parents. He’s staring at Peter who is just realizing he messed up. Oops. 

“And Natasha and Bucky and Clint and Rhodey.” Peter adds. 

“Exactly.” 

“Is this Spider-Man an Avenger, Tony?” His father asks, twisting his hand in the air at the mention of Spider-Man. His parents knew of the vigilante after they called him up one morning when they saw footage of, at the time, a new superhero swinging around Queens and Tony just told them he worked with the man and helped supply him with a suit and web shooters. His parents don’t ask much about the Avengers. Thankfully. 

Tony sees Peter looking down on the corner of his eyes. 

“Spider-Man isn’t an Avenger. He works by himself.” 

“But he works for you?” 

Tony gives a half shrug. “He doesn’t work for me. I made his suit for him and give him access to what he needs.” 

“Why is his identity a secret but none of the rest?” His dad asks, seemingly interested all of the sudden. 

Thankfully Tony is a good liar. 

“Because he isn’t an Avenger. There’s no need. He doesn’t need to sign the Accords and he can continue looking after Queens.” 

“But you know who he is? I mean of course you do.” Howard presses on. Tony tries not to look too annoyed but he can tell Peter is uncomfortable so he scratches the back of his head lightly to try and calm his nerves. 

“Yeah. Of course.” 

“Drop it, Howard. You know Antonio won’t tell you who the man is.” His mother looks bored. Like she always does whenever he talks about Avengers business. 

His father hums then glances over to Peter. “Have you ever met the Spider-Man, Peter?” 

Peter looks up at Tony, his eyes desperate for help. Tony answers for him easily.

“Of course not, dad. My son isn’t involved in Avengers business. Or any superhero business for that matter.” Although that is true, he doesn’t let Peter know about anything regarding the Avengers since he doesn’t need to worry Peter but mainly because he’s trying to persevere Peter’s innocence for as long as he possibly can. 

“But he’s quite familiar with the rest of the Avengers? No?” 

Tony sighs loudly. “Dad. They live in the tower. They’re a floor beneath us. They come to the compound with us sometimes. Of course he’s on a first name basis with them.” He’s annoyed by the accusations. “Hell. They even babysit him sometimes for me.” 

His mother gasps. “Antonio, Oh no. Sei sicuro che sia sicuro?” (oh no. Are you sure that's safe) 

Tony doesn’t dare to sigh at his mom despite wanting to. “Of course, mom. If you could have anyone watch your kid, wouldn’t you want the earth's mightiest heroes?” He tries to lighten the situation but Maria doesn’t seem to care. He also had this conversation with his mother before which annoys him but he doesn’t let it show. 

He stands up, taking Peter’s plate and his plate. “Alright then. Let’s drop the Avengers conversation, shall we? Papà. Vieni ad aiutarmi in cucina. Dimmi di cosa hai parlato con mio figlio.” (Dad. Come help me in the kitchen. Tell me what you talked to my son about) 

Tony leads the way, now irritated and concerned over what their conversation was about. Then he remembers that he never actually gave Peter an answer to his question…