Chapter 9
"What?" Natasha asked, the color draining from her face. She didn't want to believe it. "Tony, what are you going on about?"
"Peter," The young man sniffled, clearly on the verge of tears. "He's mine. That's my baby."
"No, Tony that- "
"He's my baby." Tony's voiced cracked. "I swear he is."
Trying to school her expression, Natasha asks him a hard question. "How do you know?"
"I just- he's mine. I know he is."
"Tony," She sighed, realizing her mistake. "Maybe this was a bad idea."
"What? No, it was fine."
"None of this was fine. You clearly can't handle being around pups right now, you're acting delusional."
Ignoring his protests and cries, she finished the journey back to the shelter. There she ushered him into his room quickly, not wanting to upset the other omegas. She knew she had a duty to care for him, but she couldn't do it on her own. Natasha had tried so hard to get him readjusted and healthy. But it just wasn't enough, she needed Tony to get real help. Making her way into her office, she closed the door behind her softly. The residents didn't need to hear this phone call.
"911, what's your emergency?"
"I'm the owner of an omega care facility, one of my residents isn't doing so well. He's been really depressed lately, but now he's starting to act crazy. I think he might be a danger to the other omegas here."
Tony hadn't seen it coming. He had put his trust in the one person who vowed to help him. The day went horribly wrong, of course. He had cried more than enough times. But he got to see his son again. Something he thought he'd never get the chance to do. It was heartbreaking, to reveal that to her, and yet she didn't believe him. Didn't she know that omegas could never forget their pups? Even coated in the scents of two alphas, Peter scented the same. Fresh and sweet as mother's milk.
He tried explaining all this to the doctor before they locked him up. It was no use, everybody thought he was just another crazy omega. Too lost to think straight or recognize his failures. It didn't matter if Peter really was his. He gave him away. He wrapped up his newborn pup and left him in a hospital dropbox so that someone could care for his baby the way he wanted to. Tony did the right thing, he was sure of it. He was only trying to protect him. Why couldn't anyone understand? It was an act of survival, to give his pup the best chance at living a decent life. So that he wouldn't have to grow up with a whore for a mother or living on the streets worrying about where his next meal would come from.
For days he paced the room, his socks gripping the floor unpleasantly. Despite the countless therapy sessions and pills, his thoughts remained the same. Peter was his baby. His eyes were just like his, a classic Carbonell trait he was glad came from his mother. The only thing that set him apart from his sire's cold dark eyes. He may have been a Stark but at least he didn't look like it. He remembers it so clearly, the way he had first looked. How precious his pup was.
The therapist in the psych ward was unconvinced. They were positive he was just suffering through a bit of withdrawal, as if that alone was a good enough reason to hold him hostage. They never shared what Natasha had told them, that he was dangerous. That he, like most omegas would do just about anything to get their pup back. Had he not been stuck there he might have really given her cause for concern. It didn't matter though, he wasn't kept for too long.
After about a week, a familiar face showed during visiting hours. Apparently, they needed to stop him from tarnishing the family name.
"Stark men don't end up in places like this. You were supposed to be better, Tony." His father said, deeply annoyed he even had to address this.
"Oh- I'm sorry, I'll try harder." Tony said at a whisper.
"You better. I can't have you acting a fool, you'll ruin the company."
Ah, of course–the company. Even through his fogged state of mind, he got the message loud and clear. Get his act together, or else. He'd already disappointed him enough, the company was all he had now. It was the only thing worth his attention. It had a promising future, unlike Tony. Who'd most likely be forced back into a room like this one. His father would get him out and keep him sated on the drugs and away from the tabloids. Not much of a trade in his opinion, at least here he got to play cards with the other crazies and talk to people who cared, even if they didn't quite believe him.
"I'm taking you home." Howard said, cutting his visit short.
And just as quickly as he wound up there, he was gone. Back to a life built on death and destruction, the sweetness of high society.