Irondad
"Why is your phone going crazy?"
Tony glanced up from the screen, a lie poised on his tongue. Him and Scott were alone in the room, Sam having went to the parking lot to wait on the pizza as 'Simon Edwards' and Wanda still in the other hotel room. After meticulously checking for bugs in the cushions, Tony found himself a spot on the couch, his legs thrown up over the length of it and the back of his head resting against the wall. He was looking over the conference building blueprints once more, analyzing it over and over again (coming up with the same answer every time), and had mostly tuned out the way his phone was constantly buzzing. At the top of his screen, notifications came through from 'Spiderling' and 'Harls.'
With the mission, Tony had to cancel his lab days with Peter. He felt bad about it, considering he had to cancel the previous visit as well for his own sake (there wasn't enough make-up in the world to hide the darkness under his eyes). Of course, the teenager understood, especially when Tony told him he had to go on a special ops secret mission and couldn't talk much. He tried to pry for details. Tony had sent him a 'zipped lips' emoji.
The kid visited on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, occasionally staying for the weekends. They alternated between the Compound and the Tower, depending on the circumstances - AKA if Tony wanted to deal with the other Avengers or not. Happy often drove Peter directly from school to wherever they were meeting. Sometimes, Tony would take the drive down to Queens to watch Decathalon Tournaments or just take the kid for ice cream and listen to him ramble about his and Ned's latest Lego project. Originally, the lab days were to make his internship legit for school, and it still was, but they tended to blow stuff up in the testing room (it was a separated area, he wasn't stupid) and work on the suits more than doing anything Stark Industries related. He definitely didn't have the kid get him coffee. The one time the kid volunteered to make it, Tony had to choke down an overly sugar-fied beverage that was half M&M creamer. While it was better than motor oil in his drink, he needed caffeine, not a milkshake.
Not that he said that to Peter. He smiled and congratulated the kid, turning that hopeful grin into a happy one, and redirected his attention while Tony hastily poured pure coffee into the cup.
Anyway, Tony thought of the kid as more of an apprentice than intern. It was selfish, he knew. A man like him shouldn't have such a good kid like Peter learning from him, but he couldn't push him away. He would get those sad puppy eyes or the the kid would run into danger headfirst - or both! He would do his best to not mess up, to actually teach the kid something, and Peter would be a better person than Tony ever was.
A similar story went for Harley Keener. The kid was far more jaded than Peter was despite being about a year and a half younger and Tony did his best to change that despite sometimes being fairly pessimistic (read: rationalistic) himself. Tony made sure the kid always had the most updated (and safe) tech for his own lab. He got the kid during the summer for a few weeks and also got Harley's mother a better paying job with less hours. (He also insisted on paying for her to get that education she once mentioned wanting, not letting up until she finally admitted to wanting a marketing degree. Now, she was almost finished with her Bachelor's and Tony made sure there was a job in Stark Industries lined up for her.) He didn't leave the kid's little sister Maddie out either, getting her as much art supplies she wanted and making sure she got access to the best art camps. He brought her to the lab sometimes, too - despite being ten, she was a sense of rationality among their recklessness. She reminded Tony of Pepper and May.
Last summer, Tony introduced Harley to Peter. He expected some awkwardness on Peter's part or for Harley to be a bit standoffish, but the two clicked near instantaneously, getting along like a house on fire despite being somehwat opposites in attitude. By lunch, there was a new red and gold drone flying around the room spraying silly string at Tony. By dinner, Dum-E was set free in the testing area to use his fire extinguisher to his heart's content while Tony and his- Tony and the kids went and got pizza. By midnight, he had both kids asleep against his shoulders with the credits to the first Star Wars movie playing out on the television. Unable to move, he'd fallen asleep there and woken up with a stiff neck.
It was all worth it.
(He ignored how Pepper said they acted like father and sons or how he treated Maddie like a daughter. He ignored how when Rhodey met the boys, he called them 'his nephews.' He ignored how both May Parker and Miss Rachel Keener commented on how good his co-parenting was. He ignored it all because Tony Stark should never have kids.)
Apparently, one summer wasn't enough and the boys had created a group chat that they dragged Tony into. With Rhodey's input, they named it 'An Idiot Genius and his Minions.' The two teens bounced off ideas and said things called 'vines' that Tony tried and failed to understand. He mostly just watched the chaos, chuckling to himself and occasionally throwing in comments. (Once or twice he had to intervene on some particularly dangerous ideas by threatening grounding.) Currently, from what he could tell, they were throwing out designs for an actual jetpack and Tony was debating on joining or intervening.
"Just my interns." He replied to Scott, hoping he would take it for face value - he had a few hundred interns when considering all of Stark Industries. It wasn't technically a lie. Harley had an official 'internship' as well. It helped with college applications.
The man raised an eyebrow. He was settled on the edge of the bed, playing Candy Crush on his own phone. Their coats were discarded in the corner with most of the luggage. "You give your interns your personal number?"
He shrugged, struggling to find something to say. No matter what he tried to tell himself, he wasn't very good at lying to people he was even somewhat friends with. Exhibit A: his atrocious running in the canyon-driving with the top down lie to Rhodey when he was in a no-fly zone. He would say it was stress - he had missiles on his tail and had just finished blowing up terrorists, for goodness sake - but he'd never been good at lying. Brutal honesty? Amazing. Lying? Not his forte unless he had to.
His phone buzzed three consecutive times as Peter typed several messages in caps. More buzzes came as Harley responded with an equal amount of gusto and Tony cursed himself for unmuting the chat earlier, when he was having to calm down in the bathroom. The familiar buzzing of their texts had brought him back down to reality, brought him back to a sense of normal, and he forgot people would question why his phone would want to vibrate off the table. The others knew who Peter was, including his secret identity (he did get chewed out for bringing him to Germany at fourteen, which was entirely fair), and had met Harley on a few short occasions. He introduced Harley as his intern (and inventor protege) and Peter as his intern (and superhero protege) and that was that. (He kept meetings short after Harley almost punched Steve in the face during the first one. He wasn't sure how the kid found out about his injuries after Siberia. Friday insisted on her innocence and claimed Harley's observation skills.) They hadn't met Maddie yet, time not coinciding, but he did show her drawings to Steve via text.
He glanced at the chat again, then opened it when he saw the words 'potentially could reach space.' Time to be a rational adult.
IamIronman: You two are not building a jetpack that can make it to space. I forbid it. Start with the lab ceiling - with a test dummy!
Harls: You say go big or go home
IamIronman: Go home on this
Spiderling: But it would be so cool, Mr. Stark.
Harls: Didn't you say sometimes you have to run before you can walk?
IamIronman: Peter, Harley is rubbing off on you. Harley, don't use things I said against me. That goes for me, not you.
IamIronman: Who showed you that footage?
Harls: Nobody
IamIronman: Was it Viz? Or Friday?
Harls: No comment
IamIronman: I see how it is
Spiderling: Aren't you supposed to be on a super secret mission right now?
IamIronman: That's not important. If you make a jetpack that goes to space, I will take away Peter's lab privileges and take away Harley's potato gun
Spiderling: Mr. Stark!
Harls: You wouldn't dare
IamIronman: Try me
"I know that look."
Tony would never admit he forgot Scott was there. He would also never admit that he nearly jumped out of his skin when he spoke. "What look?" He managed to reply evenly.
Scott was looking at him with that stupid 'I know something you don't' face. "The look on your face."
"I look normal." He rolled his eyes. "My interns are just trying to do something dumb."
"Harley and Peter?"
"Yep." His phone buzzed again.
Spiderling: Okay, what is the limit?
Harls: Is there a jetpack record we could break? One where we're in it?
IamIronman: Four feet in a padded room with a helmet and foam armor
Harls: That's boring
IamIronman: It's safe
Harls: As I said, boring. You went over two thousand feet with your first suit test run
IamIronman: Who keeps showing you the videos??
IamIronman: I'm supposed to be the responsible adult here and I say no
Harls: Since when have you been a responsible adult?
Spiderling: He's kinda right, Mr. Stark.
IamIronman: Peter!
IamIronman: Harley stop influencing him
Harls: Never
"What are they trying to do?" Scott asked, this time more curious. He still had that stupid know-it-all look that Tony elected to ignore.
"Build a freaking jetpack and get it to space." He answered, thumbs flying over the keys as he tried to explain exactly why they couldn't try to break a flight record in a jetpack. It was like arguing with two of himself sometimes.
"That definitely sounds like your kids."
"Yeah, they're being really-" It took his brain a second longer to register exactly what Scott said. His heart pounding unnaturally fast, his attention jerked to the other man - who was still wearing that stupid look. What he means to say is "want do you mean" or "they're my interns." What comes out is: "They're not my kids."
"Suuure." He drew out the word obnoxiously. "And you totally don't have the Exasperated Dad Look."
"Exasperated- what?"
Scott snorted out a laugh. "Your kids are doing something extremely stupid but you can't get it through their heads how stupid, yet you can't stop being amused by their antics. I get it. Cassie's ten now and she's trying to turn all my hair white before I'm fifty with her stunts. She's taken up skateboarding." He laughed. Tony was too stunned to react, throat working for words and finding none. "During summer I think I heard at least ten explosions from the lab in three days. You were happiest when they were around. And when Pepper was there, even if she stopped the explosions."
"They were safe the whole time." The words spilled off his tongue. "The testing room-"
"-is an isolated room with a two feet thick viewing mirror. I know. We all know." He said. "We don't think you're reckless with them, Tony, if that's what you're thinking. You're good with them."
"They're not my kids." His voice was weak to his own ears. His phone was still going off where it was clutched in Tony's hands. "They're my interns."
"Uh-huh."
"They're not mine." After two years, Peter still called him Mr. Stark, for goodness sake.
"Sure."
"Stop answering me like that."
Scott held his hands up in surrender, grin growing. "Answering like what?"
"Shut up."
He shut up, but kept grinning. Tony chose to ignore him rather than throw a pillow at his head.
Until he started talking again.
"You, Clint, and I could form a Dad Club. We could call ourselves the Avenger Dads. Or maybe the Avenging Dads? We'll work on the name later."
"If you don't shut up-"
"We could make t-shirts!"
"Why would we- Scott, I swear-"
"We can take turns babysitting!"
Tony dropped his feet to the floor and grabbed the furthest cushion away from him. As Scott continued to ramble, he finally chucked it at his head, temporarily stopping him.
"C'mon," the ant-themed hero said, tossing the pillow back at him, "you would be a great babysitter."
"You do not want me babysitting under any circumstances." Just the idea of him trying to watch Peter, Harley, Cooper, Lila, Nathaniel, and Cassie (and possibly Maddie) was making his anxiety go up. Sure, he had built that tree house for Clint's mini agents back when the man was still a fugitive in Wakanda, not yet on house arrest, and from what he had seen of Cassie, the girl was like her father in more ways than one except for being typically well-behaved, but actually taking care of them? No way. He could barely keep himself alive.
"And why not?"
"I am not responsible enough to be in charge of children."
"You're plenty responsible." He waved a dismissive hand. "They're mostly teenagers. It's not like chasing toddlers."
"That doesn't help. I was an awful teenager."
"So was I. So was every teenager."
"Peter isn't. That kid won't kill a fly and has a huge guilt complex." He couldn't help but think that was his fault, too, if only partially. The kid put too much on himself as Spider-Man. "Outside of Spider-Man, he doesn't do anything risky. Harely has a good head on his shoulders, just a bit of an attitude. He calculates the odds first."
"I thought they were trying to build a jetpack for space?"
"Science is science. I won't punish them for throwing out ideas." His phone buzzed for the eighth time and he finally opened the chat again, finding images of sketched designs for that jetpack - from Peter, of all people. Quickly, he typed out a 'You two better not be serious' and switched his attention back to Scott. "As long as they're being safe about it, they can talk about building a space laser."
"They just can't build it." Scott pointed at him. "See!"
"See what?"
"You're acting like a dad. You won't let them do something dangerous."
"I'm not acting like a dad." He defended. "I'm just not being crazy."
"You're totally a dad. You're Irondad!"
"Scott, for the last time, I am not a dad."
"Whatever you say." He shrugged. His grin softened itself into a little, fond smile, as it did whenever be talked about Cassie. "Those kids adore you, y'know? I've seen it. They look to you like you hung the moon."
"It's hero worship. Peter will grow out of it. Harley's lasted about two minutes at first and that was because I broke into his garage. Now it only happens sometimes." He looked down at his still-buzzing phone, trying to ignore the way Scott's eyes were boring into his head. "It's not healthy for them to hold Ironman on a pedestal like that."
It was silent for a long minute. Then, Scott said quietly: "They're not worshipping Ironman. They're not worshipping you in any way." Tony found himself looking up, meeting his eyes. Scott leaned forward slightly, face the most serious Tony had ever seen him. "No, there's no worship here. Ironman is a hero to the people, yes, but to Peter Parker and Harley Keener? Tony Stark is their hero."
"That's not true." It was hard to keep his voice steady, but he does. Tony Stark and the word 'hero' no longer mix. They never did. He was someone who tried to fix mistakes only to create bigger ones. Peter and Harley? They needed a better role model than him, yet he couldn't bring himself to let them go. He never second guessed choosing Peter Parker. He could never abandon Harley Keener.
"Except it is." Scott grabbed him by the shoulder. "Look, Tony, I don't know everything. I don't know what all goes through that head of yours. I doubt anyone does, except maybe Pepper, but I do know one thing for certain: those kids love and look up to you." He released the genius. "Do you remember when you brought both of them to the Compound for Harley's last week in New York? Harley wanted the cereal off the top shelf and even though Peter could have easily gotten it, you grabbed a stool and got it for him."
"So? The kid wanted Lucky Charms."
"And while Harley was eating the cereal, Peter was trying to work out a chemical equation and ignoring his food. You got him to eat while helping him with the problem."
"His abilities cause his metabolism to be triple faster than normal. He needed to eat." He huffed. "Kid can get focused on one thing and forget nutrition." ('Just like him,' a little voice whispered.)
"For all your genius, you really don't see the obvious."
"And what exactly is the obvious?"
"After you gave Harley his cereal and went to help Peter, he looked at you like you were a hero. When Peter got the equation right with your help and you went to make coffee, he looked at you like you were a hero. Believe it or not Tony, you are their hero. You are a hero."
He shook his head. Two words slipped beyond his lips before he could stop them. "I'm not."
Scott raised an eyebrow. "Whoever told you that is a liar."
Tony glanced at a speck of questionable stain on the wall, fighting back the way his brain was twisting itself. Scott's words went to war with his own. The buzzing of his phone kept reminding him that the kids might have been trying to get his attention, yet he couldn't bring himself to check.
Scott said Tony Stark was a hero and he knew almost everything Tony had done, if not all of the details. He at least had an overview - that should have been enough to get him running for the hills. Everyone should have ran from Tony by now - technically, a lot of them had done that with the splitting of the Avengers, but Tony couldn't stand hearing the word 'fugitives' associated with his former teammates. He fought and fought until they were back in arms length - and now he didn't know what to do with them. He'd done so much bad. How did grabbing cereal and helping with an equation get him a hero look? How could Scott say he was looked at like a hero?
He could still feel Scott's eyes on him and Tony really didn't want to break down in front of anyone, so he did what he did best: deflect. "On the topic of kids," he said, forcing his tone into some semblance of his confident self, "has anyone told you that Vision is technically my son? Or grandson. We're not sure."
Scott made a sound like choking on air and Tony could finally look at him. His open-mouthed shock almost made the genius laugh. "What- how?" Scott shook his head. "I knew you helped create him, but..." He trailed off, looking at him with such a lost face that Tony had to laugh.
"It's a long story."
"Dude, you can't leave me hanging like this."
Tony threw the pillow at him again. "You bet I can."
Scott fumbled, the cushion smacking him in the face before he got a hold on it. He looked like he was going to throw it back at Tony, but he was saved from retaliation when the door opened.
"Pizza is here!" Sam announced, walking in with five boxes stacked on his arms. Wanda followed in, making sure to shut the door behind them. The man put the boxes down on the unoccupied bed and started laying them out in a line.
"Thank God." Tony sighed in exaggerated relief. "I'm starving. Another minute and I don't know what I would have done."
"Dibs on the first piece!" Scott threw the pillow at Tony, forcing him to dodge, and practically vaulted over the bed to get to the food.
They didn't have plates or napkins, so they resorted to 'grab what you want and try not to make a mess.' Tony ended up with two slices of pepperoni pizza and one meat lovers piece. He practically inhaled them, not recognizing exactly how hungry his body was until food was in front of him. He was wiping his hands on his pants legs (they were going to change anyway, so what did it matter?) when Sam spoke.
"Tony, what do you have on the conference building? Has anything changed?"
They'd gone over it several times at this point - three floors above ground, one floor below ground. The barrier disrupting his scans was annoying and concerning considering nothing could usually hold up to his tech. They needed subtility until they could figure out exactly what was going on. Being in the building meant that Sam couldn't help with his wings. They had them, as well as guns, stored away in a secure compartment beneath the Honda, but getting the guns past Hydra, who likely were using metal detectors and watchful agents, was going to be tricky. Wanda and Scott didn't really need them, not with Wanda's abilities and Scott's ability to shrink, but Tony and Sam? They needed weapons.
Thankfully, they knew how to use them. Sam was a little rusty, but his military training made firing and aiming muscle memory for him. Tony? Former arms manufacturer. Those three words spoke for themselves.
He just didn't want to use guns. They reminded him too much of the past. What happened with Killian was necessary.
Tony pulled up the satellite scan again, the big red 'error' message popping up automatically. When Sam had arrived with pizza, he'd quickly muted his notifications before getting his slices. He didn't need anyone else asking about the buzzing - not that he wouldn't brag about Harley and Peter. He only didn't want to risk a repeat of the 'dad' conversation, possibly from Sam.
He tried to run the scan two more times. Nothing. The only changes were the few cars in the parking lot: clearly marked vans of catering and decorations. Everything inside the building was hidden from him. "Still can't get my scan to work." He said, unable to keep the frustration out of his voice.
"Why?" It was Wanda who asked. Unlike when she first asked him about his sunglasses, her voice held none of the accusation. She was halfway through a slice of veggie pizza and didn't look like she totally hated it.
"I don't know." He answered honestly. "Hydra tends to trip us up, but their tech isn't as good as mine." It wasn't his ego talking. Hydra tech tended not to stand up to his for long, if at all. "Either they've hired some really competent engineers or something else is going on." He didn't put much stock in the engineer theory. There were plenty of good engineers, but ones that could beat Tony at tech? Not very likely.
He was missing a variable.
(There was one possibility. It was one he didn't want to think about. He didn't want to believe it could happen. He destroyed it all. There wasn't a way. There couldn't be.)
"How are we going to get in?" Scott asked. He was holding his sixth slice of pizza. "This is Hydra trying to take out hundreds of brilliant minds. They're going to have security to keep them in and other people out. Tony is the only one invited."
"Technically, I wasn't supposed to be invited." Tony pointed out. "Fury got me the invite by having SHIELD hack their systems."
Sam's eyebrows drew together in confusion. "They were trying to gather all the greatest business and genius minds, but they didn't want to invite the guy who had both?"
Tony shrugged. "They probably thought I would figure out what they were up to." He said. "I checked what SHIELD did through their files. They made it look like a glitch in their systems sent me an invite two weeks ago." He wondered if some poor organizer got hurt (or killed) because of it. "They're going to be on even higher alert now that I'm there."
"Wanda," Sam's attention shifted to her, "Steve told me you had been practicing with invisibility. What can you do?"
The woman put her pizza down on her pant leg. She was sitting by herself on one of the beds, Sam on the other one and Scott sitting next to Tony on the couch, and she folded her hands together. The action, as confusing as it was, took some of the tension out of his shoulders. "I can't do much. It's very...complicated. It takes a lot of power." She hesitated. "I think...I think I can hide myself and one other person for a few minutes at most."
"What if Scott was small?" The leader asked. "Could you hide yourself, him, and myself as well as the weapons?"
Wanda twirled a piece of hair anxiously around her finger. "Maybe. That's a lot to hide."
"And the metal detectors, if they have them." Scott said. "She could trigger one going by and the whole place might shut down if they can register how much."
"And once the invisibility is over," Sam mused. "What are we going to do?"
Tony's mind whirred, clicking together their resources and ideas. He found his eyes going to his suitcase. "We have to blend in." He said, bringing the attention back to him. "Like we planned. Scott can stay small, so he won't be noticed. Wanda, Sam, you guys packed some fancy clothes, right?"
The two nodded.
"So when the invisibility falls, you make sure you're in a spot it won't be seen. Mingle with the crowd until we meet back up at a point."
"What about the metal detector?" Sam asked.
"And my appearance?" Wanda interjected. "There's a chance someone could recognize me."
"We might not need to worry about any of that." He got up and went to his suitcase, guesturing for them to come over. He heaved it onto the bed and undid the zipper. "How about hiding in plain sight?" He allowed himself a smirk, flipping up the lid. Pinned to the inner side and meticulously organized were lines of watches, pens, and even jewelry, from earrings to necklaces. He grabbed one of the watches and put it on his right wrist.
"Something tells me I'm about to see something extremely cool." Scott said, grinning.
Tony found himself grinning back. He pressed two buttons on the watch and his gauntlet formed, wrapping around his hand. "It's made of metals, yes, but I shield all my stuff like this. It won't be detected. Being asked to take it off or walking through with it won't be a problem." He tapped his wrist and the gauntlet retreated back into the watch. "All of these normal looking items pack a punch."
"What about those?" Wanda pointed at a pair of ruby earrings. They were hanging earrings, with three rubies at varying sizes, and a golden base.
"These are a take on the mask SHIELD uses to change appearances." He replied. "Just without the mask part. Your appearance is distorted with changed facial features, though it's not as effective when someone is up close." He picked them from their spots and held them out to her. "Good thing they match your style."
"Thank you." She said, holding out her palm. Tony managed not to flinch, dropping the earrings into her hand.
"What are those?" Sam asked, pointing to the folded black mounds within the main part of the suitcase.
"Oh, Pepper picked them." He replied. "They're outfits for the conference, in case you guys didn't have anything." He had called her, halfway panicking about the mission, and she had talked him down like the amazing woman she was. She then gave him a task to focus on - picking out apparel for each of his teammates. He had put the call on his computer and switched to Zoom, letting her help him choose his least flashy suits and the one dress for Wanda. "They're labeled, if you want to wear them. This one is mine." He grabbed one of the dry cleaning bags and laid it out on the bed. "Scott, there's one for you, too, but I doubt you can wear it over the suit. Wouldn't be comfortable, anyway. Wanda, this dress used to be Natasha's, so I would be careful of a knife stashed somewhere." He was only half joking. She kept knives everywhere. "She gave it to Pepper, but both of them thought it would be perfect." He'd texted Natasha to be sure.
He found himself subconsciously moving away as Sam and Wanda found their bags. He wasn't sure if he was getting away from the sudden crowding out of convenience or if he was shying away from Wanda again. "Friday," he addressed his AI, "how much longer do we have to get ready?"
"There are two hours and forty-six minutes until 6:30, Boss. You would need to leave in two hours and nineteen minutes to be there by then." They had a little more time than he expected them to, but he wasn't about to complain.
"Then we better get moving. Who's first to shower?"
"Dibs!" Scott yelled again. He practically scarfed down one more slice of pizza before running to the bathroom, backpack in hand. The water turned on immediately after the door was shut.
"I'll go get ready in my room." Wanda said, the dry cleaning bag hanging over her forearm. She had the earrings still held in her palm. "Thank you for loaning me the dress. It's much better than anything I have."
Tony waved her off. "Just trying to help with the mission."
"I'm sorry about my comment on your suitcase." She added, surprising him. There seemed to be genuine apology on her face and it took him a moment to find his words. Why were people apologizing to him today?
"Don't worry about it."
She nodded curtly, then set off to her room. Once he heard the door click closed, the last of the tension fell from him and he ended up flopping onto the bed beside his suitcase, halfway on his suit bag. He let his eyes shut and tried not to think about all the ways this plan of theirs could go wrong.
At least he was mildly distracted when he vaguely heard Scott singing Miley Cyrus's "Wrecking Ball."