Atonement

Chapter 12: Epilogue

Harvesting Season

August 8, 2019

11:15 AM

Piedmont Triad International Airport

The weather was gloomy when they arrived in Piedmont. Tony shivered and quickly fretted over Primo, making sure his jacket was keeping him warm and his hood was up in case it starts drizzling. Despite surprising everyone of how well he has developed for a premature baby, their son couldn’t really shake off a fragile immune system. While it’s not as bad as Steve had as a child, no one can deny Primo Chester Stark-Rogers was a delicate child, regardless of how precocious he might be. Now at four, his parents are getting more and more up to their toes with him.

“Papa, you sure Nonno Enzo can still dwive? He’s vewy old now.” whispered his little boy concernedly, lisp and all, while his husband was putting their luggage in the trunk of the car. The said old Alpha had a palm over his mouth to hide the amused smile that took over his face, having heard his grandnephew’s question.

Tony tutted. “I’ll have you know, Mimmo, that your Nonno Enzo still drives better than Uncle Bucky ever will.”

Primo pouted, looking up at him with those thick glasses of his that only accentuated the color of his eyes. “Not helpful at all, Papa!”

Steve, also having heard the exchange, laughed out loud. The only car they’d trust Bucky to drive is a bump car.

“Don’t worry, cucciolo, your Daddy’s driving today. I’m just here to pass on the keys,” said Lorenzo, ruffling the boy’s blond hair under his jacket hood.

Primo sighed in audible relief (quite dramatically) before letting Steve lift him up and buckle him in his car seat. Lorenzo went in on the other side to sit next to the four-year-old.

The drive to the villa was filled with enthusiastic chatter from Primo and an equally enthusiastic set of reactions from Lorenzo. With Steve driving, Tony was able to simply take in the scenery outside and the comfortable noise surrounding him. Every year during harvesting season, Tony, Steve, and Primo would fly back to Piedmont and stay for a month, provided no end-of-the-world scenario calls for the Avengers’ help. Thankfully, Tony has been retired for two years now which meant regardless if Steve had to be called in for an emergency, they can still remain in Italy for the rest of the summer.

No such events ever happened yet and hopefully never will. In fact, for the last three years, the whole Avengers team including Rhodey who officially became a member when Tony retired, joined them for two whole weeks. This year, they can only stay for a few days. Either way, everyone’s just glad they can pop in for a visit.

The Stark-Rogers family was the first one to arrive, but since Marco and his kids have already moved in since last year, they wouldn’t have the whole villa to themselves. Primo immediately disentangled himself from his Papa’s tight hold and went running up to Henry’s bedroom where he’ll be bunking in.

“Careful, Chester!” scolded Steve in his Captain America voice that went completely ignored. “Jesus Christ, that kid’s turning my hair gray.”

"We can only hope this next one won't put us in our early graves, huh?" Tony chuckled, patting his rather inconspicuous 3-month-old baby bump. Fingers-crossed, she'll actually be born on her due date, coincidentally around the same time Primo was supposed to be born four years ago.

Steve grinned and wrapped his arms around Tony's waist, settling his huge palms over the place their baby was growing. "She won’t, right, Sadie?"

"Look who we have here!” A deep male voice exclaimed from behind them. Tony turned around and smiled at the sight of his Zio Alberto, with nine-year-old Amara trailing behind him. Her eyes brightened and she immediately ran to hug the omega, leaving Alberto to greet the blond alpha.

"Zio, how are you?" asked Steve jovially, taking in the hug with extreme gratitude.

"Better now that you are here. I need the long table moved to the patio and Marco, bless him, does not have the muscle for such act."

Steve threw his head back laughing, especially when Marco cried in protest from the kitchen. The two alphas have always had a long-standing fake rivalry going on. Secretly, they spend hours huddling behind closed barn doors, watching recorded baseball games.

Steve kissed Tony’s head, promised Alberto to have it done by midday, and proceeded to brisk walk towards the back kitchen. Probably planning on annoying the eldest Carbonell cousin while it’s still early.

And he still wonders why their son is a hooligan.

“Uncle Tony, come see my new playhouse,” insisted the young beta, pulling Tony’s hand excitedly. He chuckled and let her drag him up to her room after hugging Zio Alberto himself.

Amara’s room was right next to Henry’s and therefore, Primo’s. Even with a wall separating them, Tony could still hear the sound of Mortal Kombat playing in the background. There’s a six-year gap between the two boys but they still get along the best. Primo has some sort of hero-worship of the young alpha that both his parents and Marco find adorable. Henry, in turn, loves the idea of a little brother. While Thomas was much closer to him by age, his interests were more similar to Amara’s.

Tony made sure to make appropriate impressed noises as his niece gave him a tour of his new indoor playhouse. Not that it’s a stretch. Never it be said that Carbonells are stingy because Amara’s playhouse might just cost more than the yearly tuition fee at MIT.

With the tour done, Tony was able to segue into checking in on his son. The door was open so he managed to catch a glimpse of Mimmo sprawled on his stomach on the carpet watching the game on the flat screen TV. His jacket was thrown by the door and he’s currently wearing a bowler hat Tony had never seen before. Henry was next to him, running a commentary of what he was doing to his opponent.

He didn’t want to interrupt but Primo has to eat his lunch on time. He and Steve are very strict about him not missing a single meal including his snacks. He’s small enough on his own. They didn’t want to make it worse by not feeding him.  

He knocked on the door for their attention. “Hey, Henry,” said Tony, “mind if I grab Mimmo for a while?”

“But Papa,” whined the four-year-old at the same time as Henry shrugged and said, “Sure, Uncle Tones.”

Tony rolled his eyes fondly and held out his hand for his son. “No buts, buddy, or I’ll sell all your toys.”

Primo pouted and begrudgingly walked to his father. Tony lifted him with one arm and settled him on his hip. In a few more months, he won’t be able to do this any longer so Tony makes sure to cherish the moment.

Steve was still in the kitchen when Tony and Primo entered. The alpha had an apron on and was covered in flour. Tony arched his brow and smirked in amusement.

“Whacha’ doin, Daddy?” asked Primo, cocking his head to the side.

Steve waved his hand around completely unapologetic. “Marco said I couldn’t knead a pizza dough worth a damn. I’m proving him wrong, of course.”

“Language, Steven.”

“Sorry.”

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose then placed Primo back on the floor. Everyone always thought Tony would end up being the one to teach his son to swear but no one seemed to remember that between the two of them, Steve grew up in 1920s Brooklyn, joined the army, and have Bucky Barnes as a best friend.  

“Oh, wow,” Steve blinked stupidly at the sight of his son, only noticing his new accessory. “That’s an adorable hat, bubba. Where’d you get that?”

Primo smiled shyly and looked up at both his parents. “Henwy gave it to me. He used it in a pway at school.”

“Well, Chesy, you look extra grown-up in that,” nodded Steve earnestly. “More grown-up than Papa, I’d say so.”

Tony grabbed a tea towel and threw it on his husband’s face, Primo giggling wildly between them. He swiped the plated meal from the table and sent a grinning Steve the stink eye.

“C’mon, baby, we’ll go eat by the pool,” murmured the omega to his pup. The pup cheered and ran ahead of his Papa, bowler hat wobbling on his head. Neither parent were worried their son would go too close to the pool. Not only has Primo’s been having swimming lessons he was two, the pool also has a gate around it.

Steve, still grinning, leaned back against the counter with his arms folded across his chest. “Don’t get too fussed up about it, ‘mega. You’re very grown-up looking to me, too.”

“You, shut it,” grumbled Tony. “Get yourself cleaned up and come eat with your son.”

“Sir, yes, sir.”

The Stark-Rogers had just finished lunch when the others started arriving. Gianni and Joaquin had their two dogs with them, much to Primo’s delight. Lucas came in soon after with both his mom and his pregnant long-term girlfriend, Maya. Stella and her husband arrived with 4-year-old Amelia for the first time since officially adopting her last January. Zio Diego and Oncle Philippe trailed behind her like doting grandparents. Later that evening, Sofia and her kids, 10-year-old Thomas and 3-year-old Dominique, turned up with an explanation that Paul was still at a conference in Berlin and would fly in later on the weekend. Unfortunately, Charles couldn’t get out of deployment in Somalia but promised to see them on Christmas.

Dinner that night was surprisingly quiet. Most of the children were too tired from the travel and didn’t have the energy to be rowdy at the table. Primo even crawled up onto Steve’s lap and fell asleep on his chest halfway through dinner. Marco and Gianni thoughtfully offered to clean up for the night and let the others head for to their rooms— which, excellent because Tony was exhausted.

Steve and Tony decided to let Primo sleep with them the first night in their room instead of bunking in with Henry like planned. The preteen boy looked like he needed a full night’s sleep, and Primo has the tendency to have nightmares when he’s overtired.  

They still sleep in Tony’s childhood bedroom but instead of the double it once held when he last stayed five years ago, in it was a king-sized bed capable of supporting the weight of two full men, one of which was a 6’2” 240 lbs super soldier. His airplane wallpaper was never removed, as was the wall art he did when he was a kid. Steve always brightens up whenever he sees it so Tony decided to keep them instead of fully redecorating their room.

Steve laid their son carefully in the middle of the bed and took off his glasses, shoes, and clothes, leaving him only in his underwear for Tony to dress up in pajamas, before finally going to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Tony had just finished his own nightly routines and walked past his husband on the way back to their bed, casually smacking Steve’s butt in the process. He was able to put Primo’s Paw Patrol pajamas on him easily without him waking him up, thank god.

By the time Steve appeared from the bathroom, Tony was all ready for bed. The alpha crawled onto his side nearest to the door and craned his head to kiss his husband on the lips, then kissed Primo’s hair between them. His right arm draped over their son, hand landing right on Tony’s stomach, protectively covering the fourth member of their family.

“You okay?” Steve asked softly, his thumb brushing over the barely visible bump.

Tony wrinkled his eyes when he smiled. “I’m good. I’m really happy we’re back here.”

“I’m glad, too. I love your family.”

“Our family, Steve.”

Steve rolled his eyes but the pleased grin gave him away. “Yeah, our family. And this time next year, Sadie would be in our arms. That’s exciting.”

“Hopefully she’ll be a much easier child than Primo. I’m too old to keep running after hyperactive toddlers.”

“You’re not that old, sweetheart. We can still do one more after Sadie. Give her a little bubba, yeah?”

Tony snorted inelegantly. “Hold your horses, Alpha. Let’s get this one out before you plan on knocking me up again.”

A tiny arm aimlessly swatted their faces and Primo grunted in his sleep, annoyed. “Shtop’it.”

Both men chuckled softly. “Well, you heard him. Goodnight, babe. Love you,” whispered Tony.

“Love you too,” Steve whispered back. He kissed Primo’s head again and wished him the sweetest dreams before finally letting himself fall to sleep.

Primo absolutely loved having lots of cousins. Being the only kid (yet) in their main social circle back in New York, he doesn’t really get to play much around other children. Sure, he has playdates and the Little Leagues but most of the time, he’s stuck in the company of overgrown children a.k.a. the Avengers (mostly just Clint and Bucky, to be honest).

Like Tony when he was a child, Primo was always doted upon by everybody. But unlike Tony, it wasn’t because he was the kid they only get to spend time with one month per year, but because of all the children, Primo’s the most likely to get hurt. And it’s not only due to his health. The four-year-old tends to get into trouble no matter where he’s at. He’s got his parents’ lack of self-preservation for one, and Steve’s unfortunate lack of grace in just about anything outside a battle. Nobody ever leaves him alone fearing he’ll either befriend a wild animal or trip on a rock and break his arm. It happened once and no one wants a repeat.

Plus, he’s just adorable.

Between his thick glasses that make his hazel brown eyes pop (Steve was overjoyed when his son's eyes ended up turning brown like Tony's), charming personality, and angelic smile, falling in love with Primo was just inevitable. Tony and Steve are very proud.

Although, he does seem to get quite into mischief. How could he not when his primary babysitters involve world-class spies and men once hunted by the government? His godfathers are the Winter Soldier and War Machine, ready to teach him the ways of keeping his parents on their toes, while his godmother, the Great Pepper Potts, is one puppy-eye away from getting him out of murder.

Now, with six children in the house under the age of twelve including Primo, there’s never a moment of silence. Even the adults joined in on some of the fun like swimming at the creek by the woods, playing hide and seek in the vineyards, and making forts in the living room. Harvesting season has always been a nostalgic event for Tony and his cousins so they try to make it as memorable for the children as it was when they were kids themselves.

To no one’s surprise, Steve was the most eager of the adults to roll over the mud with the pups. Having grown up an only child with only one friend, he had genuinely fallen in love with the idea of a big family. Hence baby number two.

Truth be told, Tony only agreed to another kid because Primo asked for a sibling. Steve was ecstatic when he found out, especially after three years of unsubtle hinting. Honestly, Tony should really put his foot down on three kids (a little bubba does sound nice) because if his husband has his way, they’d have a brood! If Steve wanted more, he should find a way to carry them himself. Or they could adopt. Whatever.

Their little boy, like his dad, was thrilled to be a big brother. He never misses an opportunity to brag about it to their family and his friends at Little League. He even wore the “Big Brother” shirt Tony and Steve got for him every day for a week. It only added extra anxiety on Tony knowing that he wouldn’t be the only one truly heartbroken if something bad happens to the baby. The fear of miscarriage would always be in his mind since the night he gave birth to Primo.

His only saving grace was that Steve had not once left his side. He had since taken a break from SHIELD when Tony handed him the positive pregnancy test and only ever joins the team when it’s one of the Big Three: androids, aliens, and wizards. So far, it’s been quiet.

As per tradition, the night before the first day of harvest shall be celebrated with a family dinner on the balcony, under the stars, where the whole vineyard was visible. Conversations were lively among the group, not to mention the never-ending background sound of children laughing. Drinks were passed along and Tony was lucky he wasn’t the only one banned from alcohol since Maya was also cooking a bun in her oven.

Lorenzo and Alberto, even at 74 and 71 respectively, didn’t shy away from enjoying the night. They drank and sang and danced under the clear sky like they were once again in their 20s. Tony’s heart melted at the sight and he felt his husband’s arms reach for him from behind.

“We good, sweetheart?” Steve whispered softly in his ear.

Tony smiled. “Do you think we’ll have that one day?” He asked in a low voice.

Steve hummed with the tune of the music, swaying them gently to the rhythm. In Tony’s peripheral view, he didn’t miss the fond look on the alpha’s face and how he glanced from Tony to Lorenzo and Alberto. “Today, Tomorrow, and to our last breath, my love.”

Tony turned around, a contented grin on his face. “You sap,” he said, reaching for the collar on Steve’s shirt. He pulled him in and brushed their lips tenderly. The moment was only broken when Primo pushed past between them, running madly from Amara who was missing a shoe.

Steve let out a resigned sigh before yelling out, “Chester! Give back your cousin’s shoe or I’ll let Papa sell all your toys.”

A soft thump on the floor let everyone know the shoe has been abandoned.

Tony laughed openly. “Works every time.”

On the actual first day of harvesting, when their friends finally arrived to help out, Steve had taken a break from overindulging dad and uncle into full-on tactical leader. He’s so serious about hand-picking the best grapes of the yard, that he and the Avengers team are making a contest out of it. Tony didn’t join in, obviously. He still maintains they’re fighting a losing battle. Zio Lorenzo always knows where the best harvests are. But they all let them be if it meant they can finish in record time.

The pups were all eager to help— even shy, little Amelia. They each had a small basket to fill up with their pickings, ready to be made into special bottles of Barolo and Barbaresco all for personal consumption. This year, they will set aside one specific bottle named after Amelia to celebrate her joining of the family, as they did when the other kids were born or adopted into the family like Thomas. Perhaps one day they’ll get married and serve the wine during their wedding. Who knows? Tony and Steve had when they got married three years ago. Maybe not the one Tony got for his birthday because he had downed that ages ago. Luckily, they did have a bottle left from 1993 when Tony last spent summer in Piedmont as a kid.

Usually, harvesting the vineyard takes about a week to finish due to the size of the farm and the Carbonell’s preference to hand-pick. But ever since the Avengers came to lend a hand, it only takes them a couple of days. The rest of the time, they spend entertaining wine tours and organizing wine tasting events. It’s always a nice reprieve for everyone involved. Their friends made the most of their few days of stay and indulged in good wine and better conversations. When it was time for them to leave, Primo wasn’t the only kid to let out heartbreaking sobs.

Tony rolled his eyes affectionately as he comforted his son. “Hush now, sweetheart,” he said, “You act like you won’t see them again in a couple of weeks. You’re encouraging their big egos.”

“But I hiccup mi-miss them awready, Pa-pa,” cried the four-year-old.

Steve, ever the pushover dad, backed his son up, “Let him be. He misses them, Tony.”

“Hey, I’m not saying he’s not allowed to feel sad about it. I’m just saying, he’s already had a tiring day and if he keeps this up, we’ll have an asthma attack on our hands.”

The Alpha’s tune instantly changed and he took Primo from the omega, fussing over him and shushing his cries. “Oh, Mimmo, you’ll see them again very soon. How about we call them later, huh? In the meantime, why don’t you go get your cousins and we’ll build us a fort. That’ll be fun, right?”

The pup nodded hesitantly, sobs subsiding. Steve pressed a kiss on his head and then placed him back on the ground. Primo wiped the tears from his cheeks with the back of his hand and accepted the pair of glasses from his Papa before running out of the room to look for his cousins.

Tony chuckled and leaned forward to kiss his husband on his cheek. “You are such a big softie, Alpha.”

Steve simply shrugged, completely unapologetic about it.

Days turned to weeks, and Tony barely realized the season was coming to an end. Before they know it, it was the last day of their vacation.

The children were subdued, unwilling to accept the fact that they have to go back home as if they haven’t done the same thing every year. Schools were starting and they could no longer extend their stay. All bags were packed and hugs were exchanged among the family members. Primo already invited all his cousins (again) to come visit New York for Thanksgiving, oblivious to the fact that none of them celebrate the holiday. Regardless, Marco and Stella both assured their kids will be there and Sofia promised to think about it. It seemed to cheer the children up anyhow.

Sofia, Paul, and their kids were the first to leave for London since Thomas would be starting Year 6 in two days.

Then, a few hours later, it was their turn.

Tony already received the text message from Happy letting them know the jet’s all prepped up. The airport would still be an hour of drive away so he knew they had to get moving. With their bags in the trunk of the car, the only thing left to do was to say their goodbyes. Primo took it particularly hard. Last year, he was too young to figure out what was happening. This time, he’s four and he knows he won’t get to see everyone together again until next year.

The three of them were showered with hugs and kisses. Alberto made Tony promise to call him as soon as little Sadie was born so they can book a flight immediately. Warmed by his uncle’s sentiment, Tony assured him he’ll be sending a quinjet for them instead.

Tony buckled Primo in his car seat, amused that his son still hasn’t taken off the bowler hat Henry had given him. Steve was already seated on the front seat and was having a conversation with Marco about Amara’s upcoming taekwondo competition at the end of the month. With a final wave goodbye, the car drifted off the pebbled driveway.  

“When we get back to New York, I want you to unpack first before you go running off to play, got it?” Tony said to his son.

“Got it, Papa. Can Daddy help?”

“You have to ask him, kiddo,” answered the omega— to which Steve immediately said that yes, he will gladly help his son unpack.

Primo nodded, satisfied with the promise. He was nearly falling asleep, lulled by the steady motion of the car ride when suddenly, his eyes popped open and his hand covered the gasp that escaped his mouth dramatically.  “Oh, no! Papa, I didn’t get to see the gwaper!”

Tony laughed. “Well, there’s always next year, buddy.”
 

End.