Chapter 10
2008
0 days, 2 weeks, 0 months, 0 years
When Tony woke to silence filling the penthouse, he realised just how used to Peter’s company he had become. Normally, by the time he awoke, the kid would be up and about, entertaining himself for a little while he waited for Tony to come to and make breakfast.
This morning was different.
There was no quiet babbling that that drifted down the hallway when Peter played make-believe with his dolls or action figures. There wasn’t the faint sound of music or a Disney film that Peter would almost always put on for background noise when he sat alone at the coffee table colouring. There wasn’t even the gentle patter of feet that indicated he was mindlessly wandering around.
It made Tony’s stomach knot up around a ball of worry that was quickly growing to feel like a heavy bolder. He rushed to push his sheets out of the way, slipping out of his room in just his sleep clothes, not bothering to even pause to slip on his slippers. His bare feet pressed against the cold hardwood with each step towards the living room.
He wasn’t sure what he was scared might have happened exactly, Peter was already dead, but that didn’t quell the feeling.
The fear building inside him quickly dispersed, however, when he walked into the room and immediately saw the kid.
Peter was crouched by the window. Glass stretched from floor to ceiling in front of him. He was balanced on the balls of his feet, heels raised and body tilted forwards slightly so his forehead and nose were pressed against the cool surface. Unlike how he normally wore some kind of miss-matched combination of pyjamas, Peter’s small frame was swamped by a large maroon hoodie. The dark fabric pooled over his hands as he rested them either side of his face. Tony recognised it almost immediately– it was his MIT hoodie – but he wasn’t sure when the kid had managed to get his hands on it. Not that he minded.
Beside him, eight paper dragons were lined up. Ned, MJ, Gwen, Karen and Horance, Droney, Lulu and Beep (“So he Dum-E can say his name too, Mr. Stark” Peter had said when Tony questioned the last ones name). They were all facing outside, almost as though they too were admiring the view of New York from the tower.
It was raining. Sheets of water spilled from the sky and Peter just stayed still, watching.
After a moment, Tony broke out of his trance.
“Peter?”
The kid looked round shyly. He looked as though he had just been caught doing something he shouldn’t be doing.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured and Tony couldn’t stop the slight frown that fell across his features.
“For what?” he asked.
Peter shrugged and looked back out of the window.
“I took your things without asking.”
“I don’t mind, Kid. If it makes you happy, you can have anything you want.”
There was a moment of silence.
Tony took it as an opportunity to join the kid. He grabbed a cushion off of the end of the sofa and placed it on the ground beside Peter, lowering himself down until he was sitting on it, shoulder resting against the glass as he angled himself to face the kid. His back whined at the motion but he just ignored it.
“You like the view?”
Peter pulled his bottom lip into his mouth, chewing nervously at it for a few seconds before replying.
“I like the rain.”
The older man let out a hum even if he didn’t particularly share the sentiment.
“My Uncle Ben used to take me to the park when it rained,” Peter continued. He was staring off into the distance, eyes hazy and unfocused as he thought back to memories of playing in the rain with his uncle. “Aunt May would tell us off when we got home and we were all soggy from the rain, but she would be smiling so I knew we weren’t in any actual trouble.”
Tony stood, reaching out a hand towards Peter who finally drew his forehead away from the glass fully. He gave him a confused head tilt. Tony smiled.
He said, “Come on,” and gestured in the direction of the foyer with a jerk of his chin.
Peter sighed and his mouth twisted up into a sad little frown.
“I can’t go down there, Mr. Stark.”
Something Mischievous glinted in Tony’s eyes.
“Who said anything about going down.”
-
Ten minutes later, after Tony had layered up what had to be at least five pairs of socks on Peter’s previously bare feet – god, he really needed to remember to get the kid some shoes - and he had pulled some clothes and a pair of trainers himself, the two of them stepped into the elevator and Tony asked JARVIS to send them up.
Peter looked confused but didn’t say anything. He continued to stay silent, small hand tucked in Tony’s larger one, as he lead them down a corridor and towards a set of double doors.
They swung open to reveal a rather drab area. The ground was flat grey concrete and a low wall – waist high for Tony, almost shoulder high for Peter – outlined the space. Other than that, it was empty.
It was, however, outside.
When Peter realised that, he turned to Tony with a bright smile and let their hands fall apart as he took an excited step into the path pouring rain. Then he reached out, pressing an already damp hand against Tony’s arm.
“Tag,” he announced playfully. “You’re it, Mr. Stark!”
With that, he sprinted away across the roof of the tower.
Tony let out a low chuckle to himself and took off in a brisk jog, chasing after the kid into the downpour.