“Mom?”
Peter asks quietly, trying to gain his Mother's attention.
She's lying on the sofa on her side, Peter wedged between her and the back of the sofa. His back against her chest. He’s tilting his head up, looking over his shoulder, fluffy brown curls, smelling of lavender and coconut, feathering lightly against her plump cheek. Her eyes are closed, mouth slightly open.
“Mommy?” He repeats, louder this time, reaching to grip his mothers hair. Still no response.
“Mom!” He says, again, voice raising in volume. And again, no response. His mother has never been a deep sleeper. He felt as though her mind was connected with his, especially when it came to sleep. If he was awake, so was she. And yet, here he was, begging her to wake.
“...Mom?” He repeats again, weaker this time, voice wobbly. He feels his eyes water and soon enough, tears are streaming down his face. He called to her a few more times, gradually pulling her hair harder. He thought about calling his father, but when he goes to speak no words come out. (He later learns that this is called reactive immobility. He once thought that in times of crisis ‘fight or flight’ kicked in, but for him? He froze.)
When he thinks back on this moment. This horrible moment that has been engraved in his brain since it happened, there's one specific moment that he doesn't go a day without thinking about. How when he rolled over and his mom's arm flopped off him, dropping off the side of the couch, her body going with it.
Lying still on the floor, mouth agape, slightly blue. Still not awake.
They later learn she had sudden arrhythmia death syndrome. A fancy name for when a heart attack happens and they don't know why.
Her own body starved her of oxygen and stopped her blood pumping, all while she was cuddling her three year old. She was 32 years old. She had been alive and breathing for 32 years and in minutes she was gone.
Just like that, Peter’s whole world crumbled.
His Dad never really recovered. He liked to pretend that they were still a normal family, despite everything. Regardless of the fact that he was a billionaire widower with an illegitimate son. He was told it would take time for him and his Dad to find a new normal. Peter didn't see how that was possible.
He loves his Dad. He knows that he tries his best. They’ve never talked about what happened. He has a therapist, (he was initially very against the idea, but she gives him lollipops so it's not the worst arrangement) but that's about it.
He remembers when his Dad went missing in Afghanistan. He was six, having only lost his mother three years prior.
For three whole months, he was an orphan. Three whole months of all the adults in his life, Pepper, Rhodey and Happy, telling him to have hope. That his hope will keep his Dad alive. (They never once said it, but Peter knew there were doubts he was)
His Dad going missing felt the same as it had when he lost his Mom. One minute his Dad was alive, calling him kiddo and messing up his curls and then the next he was gone. Like a star dying out.
He remembers being in school, two months after his father initially went missing and hearing the older students speculate what had happened to his Dad. As if he wasn't a real person. As if the Dad who told him bedtime stories and sang The Beatles to him when he couldn't sleep wasn't real. He was just some interesting business mougel for them to discuss.
His Dad had missed his seventh birthday.
When Pepper had asked what he wanted for his birthday, a part of him wanted to ask for his Dad, even if he understood that's not how it worked. His Dad explained to him why when he asked for his momma back on his fourth birthday.
He ended up getting a pretty cool present. Some Star Wars legos that had made him emotional because Star Wars was his and his Dad's thing. He didn't make the lego, waiting to make it with his Dad, slowly losing hope that he would see him again.
But this time, unlike Peter’s mother, his Dad came home.
When his father had stepped off the plane, shooing away the paramedics that were waiting for him, no doubt Pepper’s work, Peter had wriggled out of Happys arms and bolted across the airstrip. They called his name, telling him to slow down, but there was no stopping him. As he neared his Dad, he saw him bending down, his own tears falling down his face. Peter had crashed against him, his Dad letting out an “oomph” sound, and he squeezed. He can't remember exactly what they said to each other. What he does know is there was a mixture of
“You’re home” “I missed you” “I love you” “I love you too” and he vividly remembers saying “Please don't leave me again” to his Dad, to which he replied “Never in a million years”
Their relationship changed after that. They still didn't talk about his mom, but the hole shaped like her in his heart slowly dimmed. Never fully gone, but not as protruding and painful as before.
If he had bad separation anxiety from his father before Afghanistan, it was abysmal afterwards. He talked about it with his therapist, about why he feels the way he does. Peter likes to think his anxiety is pretty justified. Wherever you saw Tony, you saw Peter. Board meetings, strolling around R&D or simply hanging around the lobby and offices. They ended up making the lego together, and had a little cry, silently grieving what they had lost.
Peter Stark became an office hit. By the age of twelve he was correcting the math of higher level interns and really cemented the fact that he was Tony Stark's son into everyone's brains. He developed his Dad's sarcasm, the eyes to match, but retained his Mothers chocolate brown curls. He was a child prodigy. Wonder kid. A sweet little boy with big eyes and a big brain.
His Mother's kindness and his Dad's intelligence.
In the beginning, the arc reactor was a problem. A visual reminder of the crushing anxiety he felt for three months. But he grew to love his Dad's blue light. It served as a night light for when his Dad would wake him from his anxiety-induced nightmares about losing his father. He would wake up, groggy and upset, and would see the blue light and know that his Dad was there. He had come home to him. It turned from being one of the most stressful things in his life to being one of the most reassuring and calming. No longer a visual reminder of what he almost lost, but a visual reminder of what he still had.
Slowly but surely Peter stopped crawling into his Dad's bed at night. He was eventually able to close his bedroom door and sleep contently, trusting that his Dad was across the hall. It took a good few years to get there, but they had made progress. Peter wouldn't dare think that Afghanistan was a good thing (he can sometimes still hear his dad's guttural screams from terrible nightmares) but he does know he is grateful for how far they have come.
After his Mother's death they grew apart, but after Afghanistan they learned to grow together.
When Peter was thirteen they started adding to their family.
Enter Natalie Rushman.
When Peter first met his dad's new assistant, he was slightly confused. She was a lot younger than his usual staff, being only 19. But she was nice, Dad said she did her job well and she often gave Peter little chocolates out of her purse, so who was he to complain? He thought she might have a thing for his Dad, but that was quickly debunked, by her.. You know, being a Russian spy. That piece of information blindsided the young Stark. (his Dad liked to pretend he knew but Peter knew he didn’t)
Then he met the real Natasha Romanoff.
Natalie Rushman and Natasha Romanoff were completely different people. Natasha was more closed off, less talkative, wore a lot more black, and he didn't see her half as much, considering she was no longer his Dad's assistant. She also didn't give Peter candy anymore, which was a bummer. .
This changed when his Dad invited her to live with them.
At first Tony was surprised that the women agreed to move into the tower with him and his son. He wasn't even going to offer a room for her. But he felt for her. She was so young, clearly traumatised and seemed to have a bit of a death wish. He felt the need to protect her, even if she didn't need it. Maybe fatherhood made him soft, who knows?
In the beginning, they didn't see much of her. Sure she lived there, but she wouldn't eat dinner with them or spend movie nights in the communal living space.
One day, on a rainy Saturday afternoon, Peter suggested they make brownies. Tony, unsure about his motive considering his son wasn't a big fan of them, elected to not ask questions and let his son explain on his own time. Peter ended up leaving the tupperware container outside the Widows door with a little note, his chicken scratch handwriting saying
“For Ms Natasha”
A couple days after, while strolling down the halls to the kitchen, Tony was greeted by the red head.
“What's your son doing?” She had asked, voice tight and clipped. Tony raised one confused eyebrow.
“Peter,'' she added, not giving anymore information. A short silence hung between them before Tony’s impatience for her to continue ate him up.
“Yes, he is my son, thanks for clearing that up,” Tony joked, slightly shaking his head, beginning to walk away, confused at the spy's reluctance to elaborate.
“He’s being nice to me.” she continued, “He made me brownies and asked me to watch Star Wars with you later.”
Oh. Tony let out an amused noise. That certainly sounded like something his son would do.
“Yeah I suppose he did” Tony replied, beginning to walk away again, not getting far before Natasha asked another question;
“Why?”
Tony paused, seemingly pondering the question, bringing a hand up to scratch his brow, “Maybe it’s because we like you Ms. Romanoff” he stalled “and want to spend time with you”
Tony gave her a small smile before walking away, allowing the spy some time to mull over his words.
She joined them for movie night the following evening. It turned out she liked Star Wars.
That day was the first of many family movie nights, which included Natasha. Over time she developed her own sort of confidence while being with them. She found her place.
Peter remembers the first time Ms Natasha collected him from school. It was a few months after her first movie night with them. When he walked out he expected it to be Happy, or maybe his Dad, but certainly not a certain red haired roommate.
She was driving a black Porsche Spyder, leaning against the passenger door. His Dad had gotten it for her a few weeks after their first movie night. It started with him making a spider/spy joke but ended up being the first time Ms Natasha had hugged his Dad. He remembers hearing his Dad whisper about her deserving her own freedom and that the car wasn’t conditional. That it was hers. Only hers, and that he would never take it off her. Both his Dad and Natasha let out a few tears, but nobody mentioned it.
“Hey Pete” Natasha said, quirking her lip up, opening his car door “Your chariot awaits”
Peter let out a chuckle, hopping into the car and dropping his backpack into the floor in front of him. Natasha walked around the hood of the car, getting in the driver's seat. “How was school?” She asked, seeming genuinely interested, “Not too bad” He replied “Aced my chem test” he then added, giving her a small smile. He was never one for bragging but he was pretty chuffed with how well the test went.
“Not surprised at all Pete” the spy complimented, raising her hand for a high five to which the boy reciprocated. She then ruffled his hair and he heard her mumble ‘little genius’ under her breath. Peter let out a big smile at that.
“How come you’ve collected me today?” Peter asked, “Not that I don't want you to!” he then continued, afraid he might have offended her “i’m just curious is all”
“Well your Dad has some meetings” Natasha replied simply, which confused Peter, since his Dad never willingly goes to them. ” “I know, shocker” Natsha then added, seemingly noticing Peter's weird expression. Peter let out a giggle.
“I asked your Dad if I could pick you up instead of Happy” Natasha paused, “because I wanted to thank you”
“Thank me?” Peter questioned “For what?”
Natasha didn’t say anything for a few minutes, which in turn stressed Peter out. She often did this, taking a while to figure out how to articulate her points. Whenever this happens his Dad usually gives her time.
So that’s what Peter does. Peter took this time to look out at the scenery as they drove. The drive from his school to the tower wasn’t very long but Peter loved to look up at all the New York buildings. He and his Dad don’t come out there much, because one time they did they got hounded by paparazzi. Not an experience Peter remembers fondly.
“Letting me into your family” She eventually stated.
It didn’t take Peter as long to find his words, quickly replying with “Well that wasn’t very hard Ms Natasha. You’re nice to me and my Dad and you helped save his life”
“He saved his own”
“He wouldn’t have been able to without you”
Natasha made an odd face at this, putting on the car indicator and pulling into a random alley.
“I pretended to be someone else, I gained his trust as an entirely different person. I lied to him, and you, for weeks. I don’t see how you think I deserve to be a part of your family” She stated, looking firm. It took Peter a second to notice the glint of water in her eye.
“Because we love Natasha, not Natalie. All the parts of Natalie that I liked you still have as Natasha. You’re funny, in a dry sarcastic kinda way. You keep my Dad on his toes which is really entertaining to watch” Natasha let out a chuckle at this. “And you’re really freaking cool! I know for a fact you could beat his ass if you wanted too”
“Oh I definitely could”
“Exactly! But there’s parts of Natasha that Natalie didn’t have that we love” Peter said with a shrug, not aware of how much those words meant to the spy.
“Yeah?”
“Definitely”
There were parts of her that Peter loved.
When Peter returned from school that day, Natasha trailing behind, something had changed. That evening, after Peter had gone to bed, Natasha came down and found him in the lab.
“You’ve got a really good kid, Stark” She said, taking a seat on the fluffy chair Tony has in the corner. “Yeah I do” Tony replied quietly, giving her a soft smile, which she returned.
“I don’t deserve what you've given me” She said, quieter this time.
“Everyone deserves a family to love them, Miss Romanoff” Tony replied, simply.
Natasha didn't respond to that, Tony didn't press her to.
That quickly became their set up. Tony working at his tables, music blasting, and Natasha sitting in the corner on her chair, often reading.
They didn’t always talk, it wasn’t necessary, they just both liked the company. They didn’t have to be as lonely anymore.
The Steve Rogers that Peter met was not like the one he was taught about in school.
For starters, he didn’t always wear red white and blue and he didn’t carry his shield everywhere.
He was a pretty normal guy, bar his odd relationship with technology. The first time Steve and his Dad met was… uncomfortable to say the least. There was a whole history there, as Natasha explained. Steve knew his grandpa but not his Dad.
Grandpa cared too much about Captain America and not enough about his Dad.
Peter met Steve after the Battle Of New York. He had stayed at Ned's house while his Dad fought the Chitauri. Anxiously sitting in front of his television. His Dad had called him every 20 minutes to reassure him he was fine. (Peter didn’t admit this at the time but he really appreciated it even if he was scared that he was being a burden) and when it was all over he was introduced to Steve Rogers.
He had met all the Avengers then. Thor was nice, a bit difficult to talk to but nice nonetheless. He nerded out pretty hard when he met Bruce Banner. How could you not? The man had seven phDs. He also met Clint Barton. Hawkeye.
Natasha had introduced him to Clint. He was Natasha's friend so Peter tried really hard to make him like him. He was a chill guy, bad taste in shawarma yes, but a pretty cool dude.
Steve Rogers was the one that confused Peter. Peter expected him to be some hard ass, know it all, righteous man and yeah, maybe he was a little bit, but he wasn't only that. He was funny in an endearing way, often making a fool of himself. But he seemed like he really cared about what he fought for.
One evening while Peter was sneaking into the kitchen for a midnight snack he found his Dad and Steve talking. Steve didn't live at the tower, he had an apartment in Brooklyn so naturally Peter was confused as to why he was here at this late hour. Their voices were quiet and mellow so he didn't hear much, just the tail end of the conversation. However, when he heard the name “Howard'' he promptly decided to run away. This wasn't meant for him to hear. If Natasha knew he had tried to eavesdrop she probably would have praised his spy skills….and then smacked the back of his head for listening when he shouldn't be.
On a totally unrelated note, Steve moved in the next day and the awkwardness that was usually there between Steve and his Dad was mostly gone. Mostly.
Peter had never liked exercising. He was a preemie baby with originally underdeveloped organs and terrible asthma. But when you live in the same building as Captain America, well….you start thinking about your health. The man was built like a tank! Peter often had people calling him pipsqueak, considering he was only about 5’5 on a good day (he's still growing!) and he wasn’t the Captain of anything.
One day when Peter was leisurely strolling through the tower, trying to find something to do, he stumbled upon the gym. Inside he saw Captain America running on a treadmill. He was running like how Peter runs when he knows there’s candy near. Pure determination. He was very sweaty, but wasn’t panting which was odd considering the speed at which he was running.
“Jarvis? How long has Mr Rogers been in there?” Peter asked curiously, looking up at the ceiling. He liked to pretend Jarvis could see him.
“About three hours,” Jarvis replied, in his usual tone of voice, concise and to the point.
“And how long has he been running?”
“Approximately two hours and fifty eight minutes, sir”
Oh. That had Peter scratching his head. “Like….like not stopping?” Peter continued, in slight disbelief, “Like no stopping at all?”
“It appears so, Peter”
“You okay, kid?” Steve said, walking over to the door. Peter had jumped out of his skin. If life was a cartoon you would have seen his skeleton. He was on the other side of the door to Steve and he didn’t expect the former soldier to have noticed his presence, let alone acknowledge it.
“Enhanced hearing” Steve clarified, noticing the young boy's befuddlement. He gave the boy a small smile, not meaning to have scared him. Last thing he needed was Tony thinking he had spooked his kid. He opened the door and invited the teen in.
“Good on you for exercising Pete, not many kids your age would” Steve complimented, walking back to the treadmill, making Peter giggle.
“Oh i’m not here to exercise, Captain Rogers, I was just bored” Peter replied quickly, causing the man to let out a chuckle.
“Call me Steve, Peter”
“Whatever you say, Captain Steve Rogers…sir” Peter said coyly, he was often told to call adults by their first name after becoming acquainted with them but that’s now how Peter worked. His Dad had made sure he had manners when he was younger and it always kind of stuck. But there were times when he did it simply because he found it amusing. It was funny seeing Clint’s face when he called him “Mr Hawkeye Clint Barton Sir”
Steven just smiled fondly at him, probably already been told by Natasha that he does this.
“Want to work out with me Pete?” Steve asked, walking over to the blue mats that were laid out for sparring, “I’m sure I could teach you a few things”
“Hard pass, I'm not really the ‘gym bro’ kinda guy” Peter said, smiling self consciously.
“So? Have you seen pictures of me from before the serum Pete? I was a twig! Walking bag of bones. I was frail and asthmatic. Would miss months of school at a time” Steve said, placing both his hands on Peter's shoulders. “What I'm getting at is, just because you're small right now, it doesn't mean you can't get bigger”
“But…I mean, look at me! I'm not smart like my Dad, brave like Natasha or strong like you! I'm weak in comparison”
“Peter. You're not weak. Your Dad is constantly saying how proud of you he is, how smart you are, and maybe Natasha is a little less obvious about it, but Pete you mean the world to her. And me? You're the strongest kid I know”
Peter looked down, trying to hide his blush, “I'm the only kid you know”
“Maybe, but that's not the point” Steve chuckled, before continuing “Look, I’m not saying you have to be big and muscular to be a man or to not be weak, you do whatever you want to do. But…if you want my help?” He smiled, “Well then I’m here”
“Did you have help? Like ya know-”
“Before the serum?” Steve cut in, already guessing Peter's question. “Yeah, I had a really good friend who looked out for me a lot” Steve continued, his smile looking a little less genuine than before. “...his name was Bucky”
“Bucky?” Peter asked, wanting to know more. Steve didn't talk about his time before going down in the ice at all, and most certainly not in front of Peter. He was glad to be getting a little insight into his life….before what happened to him, happened.
“Well his full name was James Buchanan Barnes, but to me he was just Bucky” Steve elaborated, walking over and picking up some boxing gloves and pads.
“He was my best friend” Steve smiled, passing Peter the boxing gloves. “Put them on” he said, while placing on his own pads. Peter was so desperate to hear more about Steve's life that he didn't hesitate to put on the gloves.
“He would scare away the kids who would pick fights with me, taught me how to throw a punch or two” Steve continued, putting his hands in the air. “He always had my back”
“Sounds like he’s a good friend?” Peter quietly questioned
“He was,” Steve smiled, then went to tighten Peter's boxing gloves.
“Do you miss him?” Peter asked, really curious, but also hesitant. He didn't want to push the soldier too hard but he couldn't help himself, and he was pretty sure he knew the answer already.
“Yeah Pete, everyday” Steve said, looking at Peter. “Now punch me”
“What?!”
“Punch me. Give me your worst” Steve repeated, wiggling his hands in the air. “Are you sure, Sir? My worst is pretty bad” Peter said meekly, “Like, knock you out, bad” He added, definitely over compensating. He pushed his chin up, feigning confidence. “I'm sure it is kid, go on '' Steve said, not seeming all too scared.
So, Peter hit him. Hard. Like…really hard. Steve didn't seem too phased, but Peter's knuckles hurt really badly, so…there's no telling who won there.
“We can work on it” Steve said simply, flashing Peter a smile. And work on it they did.
Slowly, overtime, Steve explained more about Bucky to Peter. And after every new story Peter heard he really wished he’d gotten the chance to meet him.
It was on Peter's fourteenth birthday that his Dad finally brought up his Mom. They were sitting in Peter's room, after a long day of celebration when Tony picked up a box he had laid on the floor. He opened it up, taking out some photographs and a very expensive looking diamond ring.
“Was that hers?” Peter asked shyly, oddly nervous.
“Yeah Pete, it was her engagement ring” His Dad replied simply, placing a hand on Peter's shoulder, trying to be reaasuring. He never wanted his son to be nervous to ask him things, he never wanted Peter to feel like he did growing up. Peter meant everything to him, and it was about time he acknowledged the fact that he had messed up.
“Engagement ring? I didn't know you guys were married” Peter added, looking at his Dad in confusion.
“We weren’t Pete” his Dad paused, “We were engaged….but I guess we ran out of time” His Dad said, looking away, a frown on his face.
“Oh” Peter said weakly, a sense of sadness washing over him. “We’ve never talked about her”
“I know Pete, and I’m sorry that I kept her from you. I really loved your Mom and I didn’t get very long with her, and I guess a small part of me wanted to keep her all to myself. But that wasn't fair to you.”
Peter wanted to say that it was fine. He really did. He reminded himself on numerous occasions during his life that his Dad had grieved too. Had walked into their living room after a long day of running his company to find his three year old son, snotty with tears streaming down his face, lying over his fiance's dead body. But a small part of Peter, the part that desperately wanted his Mom back, to know more about his Mom, had to wait eleven years to even know that his parents were engaged, didn't want to tell him it was fine. Because it wasn't.
So he stayed silent.
But he didn't resist when his Dad pulled him into a hug.
“I love you so much Peter. I feel like I was in the denial stage for so, so long. Hell, it's taken me eleven years to finally accept the fact that I’ll never get her back.” His Dad mumbled before pressing a kiss into his hair, inhaling deeply. “But I'm here now. Whatever you want to know about her, I will try my best to answer”
“I love you too Dad” Peter replied softly, nuzzling his head into the crook of his Dad's neck. “What was she like?” He asked.
And so Tony told him. About how he met Mary while in a grocery store, accidentally bumping into her while reaching for the same avacado. How she’d told him to “Avo nice day!”
How she laughed at her own terrible joke. Which in turn made Tony laugh. How she could talk to a wall and keep an interesting conversation going.
How after the first date Tony knew he never wanted to be with anyone else.
How she was so unfunny that it made her funny. That every single time Tony called her on the phone she would answer with a new pick-up line. How she would call him out when he was being an idiot, making sure he knew he was wrong.
The beautiful smile on her face when she had told Tony she was pregnant, not for a second doubting his ability to be a father. How unbelievably happy and radiant she looked when Tony had proposed to her. How everytime she told him she loved him his heart would jump because how on earth could he possibly deserve her. How he felt like the luckiest man alive.
How there has never been a day since they met that Tony doesn't think about her. How he will forever be grateful to her for giving him his son. Tony told him it all.
That evening as Peter fell asleep, Tony sitting beside him, their faces damp from tears, he told Peter one final thing.
“The day your mom told me she was pregnant with you was the day I decided to become a better man. For her, but most importantly for you. I'm sorry that after she died it took me a while to continue being that man” He said softly, looking down at his son, hoping to convey how much he meant what he said.
“Regardless of how much you were around or weren't around for the first few months after we lost her Dad, I never doubted how much you loved me” Peter replied sleepily, peeling his tired eyes open one more time to make sure his Dad knew he meant it.
“I love you so much Pete” “I love you too Dad”
Peter first hears about The Winter Soldier when he’s fifteen.
The first time he heard the name ‘The Winter Soldier’ he thought it was the name of one of the bands his Dad likes. Certainly not some homocial HYDRA agent, his Dad and the team were after.
He remembers the day that Steve found out that Bucky was alive. How the whole team, including Peter, were in the conference room when the video of an attack in London came through. He remembers Steve’s happy, but also heartbroken facial expression. How he rushed out of the room, and returned about an hour later, face red from tears. How he explained who Bucky was for the first time to people who weren’t Peter. (That was when Peter realised that he was the only person in the twentieth century that knew more than the bare details of Steve and Bucky's friendship. How much Steve had trusted him with that information)
Between August and November all of the team spent all their time digging into The Winter Soldier. The discovery of what really happened in 1991 was certainly a set back, and took some real healing on Tonys part, but they didn't let that hinder their search too much. They all knew that Tony was hurting, because he was, but Tony insisted they keep going. (Tony had come to care a lot more about Steve than he thought he would. So even if it was unbelievably painful to look for the man that had killed his mother, he did it for Steve.)
On November 11th, 2017, James Buchanen Barnes returned home. He was by no means ‘’okay’’ but he was recovering. Healing, with the help of the Wakandans, Tony's binary augmented retro-framing technology (B.A.R.F) and Steve's memories and sheer will.
Peter thought Bucky was really cool. He helped Peter with his history homework, sometimes joined Peter and Steve during their sparring lessons and even let Peter stick magnets to his metal arm! One of Peter's new favourite pastimes is teaching Bucky (and sometimes Steve) about technology.
There are some days when Bucky isn’t okay. When his older history comes back to haunt him. The war. Hydra. The years he spent as The Asset. Bucky gets snared in his memories like they’re made of barbed wire.
On days like these, he’ll lay in bed in the dark for hours. Not asleep, but not really awake either. Or at least he used to.
But then the kid started picking up on it. So now on those days, instead of being alone, the kid would bug him. Get him to help with a project, would explain the plot of Star Wars to him for the hundredth time and sometimes even get him to bake brownies for Natasha with him. Distract him, or sometimes just sit in silence with him if he needs it.
And on the days where Bucky did genuinely want to be alone? The kid would let him. Give him space. Peter was considerate… and kind. Peter didn’t look at him like he could snap any second, and he was unbelievably grateful to him for it.
On Bucky's six month anniversary of living in the tower, he bumped into Tony. Throughout Bucky's stay in the tower, he and Tony had been perfectly civil. Bucky didn't think they could ever be close friends, like he and Steve, considering what had happened with Stark’s parents. Tony didn't even have to let him stay at the tower, or be anywhere near his kid, but he let him. He gave Bucky a place to stay, and so Bucky respected him immensely. He also raised Peter, so he couldn't be that bad.
“My kid has a surprise for you,” Tony had said, stopping next to Bucky . “He does?” Bucky questioned, confused. “Yeah, and he’s really excited to show you” Tony replied, smiling and then walking away. Only giving him that info. Bucky shrugged it off, continuing into the living room, only to find a box with holes on the ground in the centre of the living room.
“There you are!” Peter had said, running from behind the couch, “I've something to show you!” The kid enthusiastically said, grabbing the man's arm and dragging him over to the box. “Yeah I can see that, kid” The soldier said, amused.
That was when he heard a meow. A very quiet meow that you would not have heard without enhanced hearing. But Bucky did. He heard it loud and clear. “Peter…what did you do?” he questioned quietly, giving the kid a stern look. But the kid only giggled, not even remotely intimidated. “Surprise?” Peter replied, giving him very lack-lustre jazz hands. The kid walked over to the box, opened it and picked up the tiniest kitten Bucky had ever seen. A little white kitty.
“Meet Alpine” Peter said, holding the little cat up to him. Terrified he would hurt it, he pushed it back, shaking his head. “Um, no Peter. No thanks” He said, beginning to walk away. Already feeling overwhelmed.
“Bucky! I thought you loved cats” The kid said quietly, sounding slightly upset. Bucky already hated himself for upsetting the kid. He turned back around, returning to Pete.
“It's so small, “ Bucky said, shocked that a living thing could be so tiny. “What if i hurt it Pete?” Bucky said quietly ''She” Peter corrected, “And you won't.” he then added
Oh. The little white kitten was a she. “She was found in a tall tree, I'm pretty sure she was carried there by her mom and then left behind.” Peter said, a hint of sadness in his voice. Oh. Well then Bucky certainly couldn't leave her behind, could he? What kind of person would that make him be? (He didn't need to put too much effort into convincing himself. Not only did the idea of having a cat make his heart all mushy, but it made the kid happy)
Tony has a lot of regrets.
He regrets how he handled Mary's death. He regrets his arguments with his Dad a lot. He regrets not being nicer to his Mom the evening she left..or just in general. He hasn't known a lot of people who loved him unconditionally. Her, Mary, Rhodey and Peter, and he's lost two of those four. He wishes he could have protected them better, but he failed.
He regrets making and selling weapons. Hurting people. Being a martyr for death and destruction, He regrets not saving Yinsen.
At night he thinks of all the people who died because of him. Because he didn't stop Obadiah, too deep and lost in his grief to notice Obadiah's double dealing. It was all his fault. Always was and always will be.
He regrets letting Peter around Obadiah.
He let his son around the man who ordered his murder. The man who wanted his company. He had trusted Obie with his son and it almost cost him everything. He almost lost the best thing that happened to him due to his ignorance. Obie tried to kill Pepper, had plans to ‘eliminate the Stark boy’ and Tony hadn't noticed until it was nearly too late.
Tony certainly had a lot of regrets. But he never regretted his son. He never regretted letting Mary into his life, even if the pain of losing her cut him like a knife. A small part of him is grateful for Afghanistan because even though he is plagued with nightmares, painful memories and an unnatural heaviness in his chest, he is so grateful for what he got out of it.
Afghanistan was a second chance.
The Arc Reactor and Iron Man, both of which led to him meeting Natasha, Steve, Bruce, Thor and Clint. His son's family.
His family. And for his son's happiness….he is always grateful.
Peter's sixteenth birthday was definitely his favourite by far. It wasn't big and flashy, certainly not his Dad's taste. It was quiet and quaint. He had his Dad, Pepper, Rhodey and Happy.
His original family.
But then he also had Natasha, Steve, Bucky, Bruce, Thor and Clint.
His new family.
And while his Mother's presence was missed, for the first time Peter felt like he could look back on his time with her fondly. He had grieved for her for years, the idea of her. Even though he couldn't remember much, he still remembered her love. The feeling of her love.
As the party began to calm down, Peter found himself looking out the windows, onto the streets of New York below.
“Pete?” his Dad asked quietly, coming to stand behind him. He gently placed his hand around his son's shoulder, pulling him close. “Hey Dad” Peter mumbled, burying his head into his Dad's shoulder, finding solace in his presence.
If you had told six year old Peter, the young boy desperately waiting for his father to return back from wherever he was missing, that ten years later, he would be looking down on the streets of New York, a whole family behind him, his Dad, there, hugging him, loving him, that this was his future. This was where they ended up. That he got his Dad back, and that the hole in his heart, that was perfectly cut out to fit his mother, wasn’t so painful and protruding anymore..he probably would have cried.
“Pete? What's wrong?” His Dad questioned, noticing a few tears leaking down his son's face. He pulled his sleeve up, dabbing around his sons cheeks. “Are you okay?’ He asked, leaning over to look in his son's glistening eyes.
Peter looked up at his, blinked the tears out of his eyes and gave his Dad a genuine smile and said;
“I'm just really happy, Dad”
Seeing his Dad's face light up, made Peter's heart warm. His Dad pulled him into a proper hug, nuzzling his face into his son's hair, inhaling quietly, not letting go before whispering gently
“I’m really happy too, Pete”