Man of Iron I Hope You Rust

It's comical really how quickly someone will be willing to throw away a relationship. Six years...Six whole years together. They started dating at 15, which should have been the first sign it wasn't going to last long, and got married at 20. A year together and Richard decides he's going to cheat already; decides he's just going to be rid of her like last nights takeout leftovers. She loved that man with all her heart, but she could see in the way he was drifting it wasn't enough for him. It wasn't enough that she would ignore important work for a little too long so she could cook for him each night and each morning. It wasn't enough that she did everything in her power to make him happy after a long, stressful or bad day. It wasn't enough for him for her to be there. Or maybe it was too much, she couldn't be sure, she was a very doting woman. It was in her nature. Sure if you do something against her Mary would steal your kneecaps with a plastic spork and laugh as you struggle to walk, but the rest of the time she was the sweetest darn woman you'll ever meet.

She kicked him out, obviously, and then went to the nearest bar for a drink and a cry. Three glasses of wine later and she was extraordinarily drunk, never really the drinker. That, of course, was when an equally intoxicated man stumbled towards her and started to chat her up. He seemed agonisingly familiar. He wasn't overly tall, but neither was she. He had dark hair and seemed quite a bit older than the 21-year-old Mary Parker (who longed for her name to be Mary Fitzpatrick once more), but she didn't mind. He was nice - even if only so she'd sleep with him - and looked nothing like Richard - his goatee distancing him from the clean-shaven face of her (ex?) husband. So she took his proffered hand and walked out of the bar at his side, looking elegant as always despite the alcohol and her slightly tear-stained face. She felt disappointed in herself the next morning when she woke next to a man she'd never met but now recognised as that Tony Stark she'd seen on the news. Next to the bed is a business card with TS and a number. She, unlike the rest, leaves Tony alone in bed with nothing but a note. A simple, but very effective note to get her whole point across in her beautiful, looping scrawl. She left it on his side of the bed, the same way the business card (which she pockets) was left on hers before leaving.

I'm taking your number. I better not get fucking pregnant. If it’s me, pick up. I wouldn’t call if it wasn’t important. (###) ###-#### -Mary Parker

So she got pregnant because of course she did. She decided when she found out though that she isn't going to be mad about it, she's going to love her baby like the gift she's certain he will be. She starts creating the perfect nursery for her baby in the room that used to be hers and Richard's. She paints first, knowing it would get harder the bigger she got. She'll put together furniture next. With the help of newly single May (Ben congratulated Richard on cheating on Mary with someone 'so damn hot'. No need to say May moved in with Mary pretty soon after.) at the same time as converting the spare room into a room for May and Mary's art studio into her bedroom, they start to get all those things done.

"May!" Mary gasps with a smile as pastel yellow paint splatters up her back and into her hair. She turns, eyes alight with mischief in a way they haven't been in a while. If she's perfectly honest, it scared May a little. That look is always followed by an unbearable amount of drama, sass, or mess. None of which May really wants to deal with right about now (which is a lie - she loves Mary's drama queen nature). Mary thrusts her hand into the can of white paint at her side and throws a handful at May, covering not only the sweet Italian woman but the yellow wall behind her too. By the time they no longer have breath from their laughing, running, throwing and attacking they're both covered in white and approximately eight different shades of yellow. The walls are entirely covered in so many different paint splatters that to be perfectly honest you can't tell what the colour the base was meant to be.

"Do you think we need to repaint?" Mary says breathlessly as she lays on the floor next to the lady she loves like a sister. They look at each other before looking at the ceiling that thanks to the tape should stay white and giggle a little more together.

"Like hell we do."

Lucky for them, just like his mother, Peter grows to love the colour yellow.

The phone rings rather monotonously. She strongly debated not calling, but it seemed important she have a very very last resort. Then again she has been on hold for six minutes now after telling one Pepper Potts what's happened and her plan, so maybe not so much. He clearly wouldn't answer if it were that important. She had been putting it off for the five weeks she'd known though.

“This is Tony Stark. I’m told this is important, what do you want?” She had to pull the phone away from her ear and take a deep breath to force herself not to snap at him. She couldn’t hide the acid in her tone though.

”Hiya, honey. Remember me? This is Mary Parker. Just so you know, I’m pregnant. It’s yours.” The line was silent on either end. 

”Are you sure? How far along are you?” She sighs.

”You think I’d bother if I wasn’t? Eight weeks." Mary hears a long, deep sigh.

"Text me your address, I'll send a driver: I want a DNA test." She agrees and does as asked (well... told). A sleek black car pulls up outside twenty minutes later, and all of a sudden mary is at the best private doctor near Stark Tower.  She's immediately hurried through to a room housing one Tony Stark and two ladies. 

"Hello Mary, I'm Pepper Potts, Tony's PA. It's lovely to meet you." Mary shakes her hand with a smile.

"And you. PA? I'm sure that's a nightmare. You must be basically running the company!" They share a laugh. Pepper gives a sigh and a dramatic 'I try' as Stark attempts to stumble his way through an argument.

"I'll have you know I'm one of the most powerful men in the world!" Mary tries to hold her smile back, but not very hard.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night." She turns to the other lady she's not yet spoken to, assuming it's the doctor. "Shall we get this over with, then?"

They rush a result - Mary assumes this to be because Tony is the one paying for it - so in a matter of an hour they have a result. The sight the doctor sees as she walks back into the room is an expected one: Mary and Pepper talking lightly and joking whilst Tony rolls his eyes and ignores them by staring at his laptop and pretending to do something productive.

"Well, Mister Stark, it appears you're a father." The room is silent for a moment, and Mary looks to the man. He rolls his eyes and glares as though he's been inconvenienced.

"First time for everything - a woman that doesn't lie for my attention." Mary and Pepper both glare at him, only intensifying the heat when another string of stupid words come from his stupid face. "How much money do you want to pretend this never happened?"

"Tony! That's your child, you can't just pretend they don't exist!" Pepper attempts to argue.

"Watch me. How mcuh, Marah?"

"My name is Mary. You not bringing this attitude around them would be enough. I don't want my child to grow up feeling unwanted." She sighs, stands, and leaves. She'll just get a taxi home. One text is shared between them after that, but don't speak to each other again. They keep each other’s numbers in case something went seriously wrong. Mary hoped it never came down to that.

If you ask Mary Parker nothing fills you with more pride than being a good mother; if you ask May Parker nothing makes you more worthy of everyone's pride than being a good mother. A great duo, as you can imagine, so sat in a hospital room crying both women stare down at this bundle of joy and burst with pride for one Mary Parker. She was about to be the best damn mum the world has ever seen. Gods know young Peter deserves it. Mary had texted Tony as she went into labour, as well as specifying what hospital she'd be in. He didn't show up - she wasn't disappointed. 

"Peter," Mary whispers, soft, like nothing in the world matters but her sweet baby boy - and of course that's not too far off "Peter Parker. You hold the surname of a man who is nothing more than a coward, and you hold the DNA of a man who's no more than a sexist, but in your eyes, I see the one man in the world who isn't going to be like any of the rest. I look into your sweet, sweet brown eyes, and with everything I am, with everything I have, I pray you'll grow to be as powerful as I see you will be. My baby boy, you'll rule the world and anyone who doubts it will burn like they're sat on the surface of the sun. You know why little prince?" She smiles, strokes his silk soft cheeks and laughs as he grabs her one finger with his tiny fist.

"Because, sweet boy, you are the sun. You'll light the world - keep it turning just how it should - because the world deserves one boy who won't try to tear it apart, and I can see that you'll only put it back together."

May had gone to work early, but luckily Mary had the day off, so she could look after Peter. It's a Saturday, which means she has to try to get the tyke to go shopping with her. She puts a Transformers plastic cup down on the table, filling it with orange juice, before placing his favourite Power Rangers bowl down, filled to the brim with fruit, and matching plate with bacon and a pancake. Opposite she places a bowl of raspberries and yoghurt for herself partnered by a glass of raspberry iced tea. She was going to need proper persuading to get Pete to go shopping, the four-year-old always hates having to stay in the trolly. She even used the orange juice with pulp for the boy (even though she knows it as a god-given fact that orange juice with pulp is what they give you in hell). Gentle wake up time.

She opened Peter's door slowly and quietly, pushing open one side of his curtains and pushing a window open to let in 'fresh' air, before walking over to kneel by his bed. She gave herself to just watch her sweet baby sleep. He always looked so peaceful. She played with his hair, singing gently to wake him. His Bambi eyes open slowly, hidden behind his cinnamon curls and excessively long eyelashes. 

"It's just like heaven being here with you. You're like an angel, too good to be true but after all, I love you, I do. Angel baby, my angel baby." Peter gives a small smile. He loves when his mama sings this song. It usually comes with cuddles, or dancing and twirling around the kitchen as it croons out from his nana's record player in the living room. Mary smiles and continues to play with his hair before he sings just as she's about to.

"I made you breakfast, cherub. Think we can get you dressed then go eat?" He nods and pushes himself up with sleepy eyes, rubbing away the grime the had accumulated with his small fist. They work together to get Peter into a white t-shirt and some blue denim overalls. White socks and trainers to match, and it means he and his mother are in the same outfit.

"Mama! Snap!" He giggles. He'd chosen this outfit once when Mary was wearing the same thing. Mary always lets him choose what clothes he wants to buy.

"Yeah, Petey, we match! Now, breakfast." She watched her son eat to make sure he didn't choke or get it everywhere but tried to make sure she ate too, lest she have Peter glare at her until she eats again. Say what you want about how cute he is, if he's angry at you you feel it in your bones. They finish eating relatively quickly, but Peter looks shifty the whole time.

"What's up, baby?" He gives her the look again, finishing his last bite of melon and getting the juice all down his arm. Mary notes that she'll have to baby wipe him down before they leave so he's not all sticky. 

"You maked breakfast and not justs fruit... Wha you wan me do?" Mary laughed. Of course he noticed. The only time he gets cooked breakfast is when it's someone's birthday or if he has to do something he won't want to. 

"We have to go shopping, dear." He pouts very obviously and groans. "Oh, I know, mama is such a monster. We have to get food, new trainers for May, I need some things, and you, young man, need more shorts after you destroyed two pairs at the park."

He giggled, always as mischievous as his mother, and agrees to go 'like a good boy'. Mary cleans up the plates and takes a few minutes to play before they leave. She puts all the dishes away then sneaks around the corner to see Peter drawing quietly on the floor. She waits for him to put his pencil down (she's not about t make him ruin his drawing - that would be mean) and then she strikes, leaning over to tickle him mercilessly just as he's about to pick up his next colour. He doubles over giggling and squealing until she stops. He pants for a few minutes, then chases his mama back.

"I gon tickle you!" He yells with a giggle.

"Oh no!" Mary says, intentionally running to the end of the hall where she'll be trapped. "You've bested me, Mr Tickle-Monster! Here I meet my maker!" Peter then attempts to tickle his mother but essentially just poes her repeatedly in the ribs - which has her giggling regardless. When he stops Mary is laying on the floor, Peter kneeled next to her. He kisses her cheek and sighs.

"Shop now?" He manages to make himself sound hard-done-by, and Mary can honestly see why. She hates food shopping too.

"We'll get ice cream on the way home, just don't tell Auntie May." They shared a conspiratory giggle once more then headed out together. 

They get the food shopping done first. It's the worst part, so they decide just to get it over with. Afterwards, they head around the corner, Mary's arms full of bags but holding Peter's hand regardless. That's where the best thrift shop for shoes are. The family, between Mary and May, certainly make enough to not have to thrift, but if they want to treat themselves to days out, days off, and presents when they need or want them, it's best they do. Besides, the clothes are just as good, often even better considering the price. They get May her trainers and she buys some fabric paint so she can paint them for May to surprise her. Mary is a very good artist, as often paints random things to gift people or give places colour (like that one time she completely legally spray-painted a feminist mural on the side of Stark Tower when she was drunk - something May would never admit to being proud of her for, but certainly is). Then it comes down to getting some breezy clothing for her boy to spend the summer in.

"Alright, Petey," she says, leading him to the children's area of his favourite thrift shop to get clothes. "If you can pick out three new pairs of shorts, I'll get you a stuffy too!" He smiles and runs over to look around. She notices his eyes keep drifting to a set of two skirts - a red and blue set. As he picks shorts she goes to look at the price and size. Lucky for the pair they would indeed fit her boy and only cost four dollars. She, still making sure to watch Peter, buys them and hides them in one of her shopping bags as he moves over to pick out some kind of stuffed animal. She takes the shorts out of his hands and places them in the basket with the shoes and paint (which she didn't ring up to avoid his suspicion). He chooses a very fluffy bear with hidden eyes and an army uniform. 

"Bucky Bear!" He cheers excitedly. "Captain 'Merica's bestest friend!" May, always the history buff, had been watching a World War II documentary while Peter built DUPLOs. The only thing he really retained was that Steve Rogers - Captain America - is a superhero, and had a super cool best friend called Bucky who looked after him 'jus like mama looks after me!'. Bucky Barnes, in all, was probably the person Peter looked up to first after May and his mama. They head home soon after that - having to hail a taxi so Mary doesn't have to carry all those bags. 

Once they get home and Mary's put away the food shopping, washed and dried all their new clothes, and put May's newly painted trainers out to dry, she decides it time to show Peter his skirts.

"Cherub, I got you a gift!" Peter turned away from his LEGOs with a gasp.

"Why?" Mary smiles and kisses him on his chocolate curls.

"Because I wanted to." She rummages around in the laundry pile and hands him them. His eyes widen and he takes the soft fabric into his eyes with the biggest smile. It falls quickly, much to Mary's dismay.

"What's wrong, Petey?" He looks to her before sliding himself into her lap.

"They're for girls. People will laugh at me..." Mary had long hated the way people are, but never more so than that moment. She strokes his hair in the tender way only a loving mother can and tilts his chin up so he looks her in the eyes.

"Listen to me, baby. Clothes aren't boys clothes or girls clothes. They're just clothes. Just pieces of fabric we put on to cover our skin. If anyone tries to make fun of you, they're the weird ones because that means they are getting angry over fabric. Normal people don't get angry over fabric unless it's the uncomfy kind, okay?" He nods and kisses his mama on the cheek. A few minutes of cuddles later has Peter bouncy once more.

"I go try them now!"

Peter comes back with fabric swishing around his knees. He does a little twirl and laughs. He says he feels pretty. Mary thinks he's the prettiest thing this world will ever get the gift of seeing, and once May gets home to Peter and Mary spinning around in swishy skirts, she can't help but think the same thing about the pair. What they don't think about is the fact that maybe they're the best family to have been seen, and that's why the sun shines in Peter - because he was raised into a family where the love burns even hotter. That tends to make you pretty bright.

"May... May, oh my Gods! May it's August 14th: our baby is five years old. I might scream. May, May where did the time go?! Who gave him permission to age May? I sure as hell didn't so if it was you I will kick you-" May, who was sat lightly giggling the whole time Mary rambles and cuts Peter's favourite fruits into heart and star shapes.

"Take a breath, Mary, holy shit. He's not even awake yet and you're freaking out. Cut your damn fruit and calm down, woman." She hugs Mary around her waist with one arm and pushes Mary's hair over her shoulder with the other. 

"Yes, our boy is getting old, but they do that. You've just got to focus on the fact you've spent that time with him and it will balance itself out." Mary sighs and relaxes in the arms of her best friend.

"You're right, as usual. Thank you, May." May kisses Mary on the temple and walks off to wake Peter. After all, he has presents to open and pancakes and fruit to eat!

"Petey, baby!" Mary called, clad in pyjamas and hair a mess around her shoulders, as she heard his door open to signal his waking.

"Yes, mama?" He replies, soft-voiced, as he toddles into the kitchen where his dearest mother stands. She swoops him up into his arms with the biggest smile and kisses him on the nose, eyes twinkling and full of mischief.

"Guess what day it is?" Peter smiles and giggles, pretending not to know.

"Wha?" Mary gives the most dramatic gasp one has ever heard (nearly coughing due to the strain on her throat but she'd never admit it - the drama is in her veins, okay, as she's great at it) and pretends to be upset.

"What do you mean 'wha'? My baby boy do you not remember? My sweet son has forgotten his own mother's birthday?" Pete hides behind his fist a secret laugh, a sound that permanently fills Mary with an unmeasurable joy.

"Noooo, silly mama, that was last year!" The same joke she's made all five of her son's own birth anniversaries. 

"They happen every year, you know? I can't believe you'd forget!" She wipes away a fake tear, and her son can no longer hide his laughs, the mirth shining in now closed brown eyes as his tinkling laugh, so similar to his mother's own, fills the kitchen.

"I no forget! I got you sumfin!" He wriggled to be put down, and as soon as his tiny socked toes hit the floor he ran to his room and back, returning with a box in his hands. So excited, the biggest smile, hair in his eyes, he holds the box out. Bouncing the whole time, of course.

"For me? Petey how did you even-" 

"Auntie May took me last week and I saved mine pocket money. Jus open it, mama!"

The woman found herself once again wondering what it was she'd done to be given such an angel of a son as she unwrapped the box to see a handmade card on top, something he must have made that previous weekend he stayed with Mary's pseudo-sister because Mary had been away for SHIELD work. A folded piece of cardstock, with finger-painted flowers on the front. Sunflowers, her favourite, in yellow paint and drawn over the top with black marker in that crude way only a child can manage. Inside a barrage of large child-ish writing covering the whole folded page.

"Mama," she read, trying not to cry at her treasure of a son as he looked on, filled with anticipation. "Happy Birthday! I love you so so so much. You are 26 now and I can't wait to eat cake with you! You're gonna look so pretty in your present and I can't wait to see. Love you! From Petey." She knelt onto the ground, leaving the box and card on the counter so she could squeeze him in the tightest hug his little ribcage could cope with, picking him up into the air with a laugh and a few hidden tears. She placed him to sit on the counter and kissed over his entire face three times over. 

"Thank you, my baby. I love you so much!" 

"How much, mama?"

"More than all the stars in the sky." His eyes, always filled with wonder now filled with a mix of love and tears.

"You're the only star that matters, mama." They took a moment to just hug until Peter got impatient, Mary so overwhelmed by the emotion her son so easily invoked in all those around him.

"Now look at your gift mama! I wanna see you wear it, pleaseeeeeeeeeeee?!" She laughed and looked into the box to see a neatly folded bundle of white fabric sat in the tissue paper lining it. She pulled it out to see the pretty white dress she saw in the thrift shop around the corner and instantly fell in love with. It was seven dollars she couldn't afford that week if she wanted to get Peter's birthday LEGOs, so with sorrowful eyes, she walked past it and tried to pretend she wasn't sad about it. Peter, always observant but never acting as though he is, prattled on about their time at the park but remembered where to come the next day with May.

Peter hopped down off of the counter (giving his mother a heart attack) and pushed her into her bedroom to change with excited rambling. He shut the door behind him as he left, always polite, and sat in the living room for her to finish. Short moments passed like hours while he sat, but six minutes later he saw he walk so elegantly into the room.

The top was entirely white, a thick yellow band bringing in her waist, and sunflowers patterned over the flowing skirt. It came down to her knees and swished with every step she took. She had put a pair of white flats on to match, and they tapped lightly on the floor in the way cheap shoes do, coated in plastic to make them look strong. She'd brushed her hair up and expertly braided it to sit like a crown at the front, with the rest of her hair flowing in a way Peter had only see Disney princesses and his mama manage. He knew then there was no one more pretty than his mama, but all he could say was a tiny 'wow' before he dove at her to hug her legs with all the love in his heart.

And, as they so often did, they whispered 'I love you' for only the other to hear.

Mary had worked late the night before to finish today's work and May had been gifted the day off, especially for Peter's sixth birthday. They knew just what he wanted: an ungodly amount of LEGO, time with his mama and auntie, and a day at the park. This meant that after their very large breakfast Peter was bouncing off the walls ready to go outside and run like a spider on LSD. 

"Peter I'm going to need you to calm down a little sweetheart. You just ate a lot and I don't want you getting sick, okay?" Her tone was so sweet because his joy almost made up for the fact that Peter had woken up at half-past six that morning. His happiness was always pretty contagious. Not entirely, but enough that Mary didn't want to fall asleep on the spot.

"Yes, mama! Jus excited! Can we go to the park with the doggies and the climb frame and the swing? Pretty please?" May and Mary both smile and tell him to grab his coat. It was pretty chilly for August, and they didn't want him catching a cold. This lead to them moments later sitting on a subway together. Peter sits tightly sandwiched between the two - the ladies always being slightly worried about the sorts of freaks you can find on sketchy public transport. Luckily for the pair, it's only a short trip and the find themselves walking down the street a matter of minutes later. He holds both of their hands to ensure he stays safe whenever they go out. He likes to hold both of their hands and have them swing him occasionally. It always makes him giggle.

"Ready, patatino?" Asks May, before she and Mary begin to count together.

"One... Two... Three!" On three they swing him forward and back again as he tucks his feet up so they don't drag on the ground. His laughs light the entire street over the noise of people and traffic, making a few people look towards them and smile.

"Mama, mama, May, again! Please?!" He bounces a little as he asks, eyes glittering. May wonders if he realises how powerful his begging eyes are. Just as Mary and May were about to count again a man leans out of a window from a parked car just ahead of them and gives a long whistle.

"You two girls together? You're pretty hot. Bet all three of us could have a good time." He winks at them. Peter doesn't understand what the man meant he only know it made him pretty uncomfy. He looks towards his mama, but she isn't looking at him - instead glaring at the uncomfy man in the car.

"You sexist, lesbian fetishising, homophobic asshole!" Peter's mouth opens as if to repeat the last word just as May speaks to him.

"Nuh-uh mister, that's mama's word - you don't get to use it." He sighs and goes back to listen to his mother - who is still very much yelling at the man. It starts to draw attention, a few people getting out their various Blackberry or Nokia phones to record the ordeal - including May.

"I don't know if you've noticed, but I have my son with me, and you have the audacity to talk to me like that? You disgust me. As though it isn't bad enough you decide you can turn someone's entire sexuality into something to please you - which is a gross way to behave - but you think that it's okay to yell about in a public place? You should think yourself lucky I have my angel of a boy with me, or I'd kick your ass. Do you realise this is street harassment? I doubt you know what that is. Someone who thinks okay to say that sort of thing wouldn't be up to date with that kind of social activism. You should be ashamed of yourself. Maybe think about your words before you speak, yeah? It will save the embarrassment of a woman having to show you up. Now, if you don't mind me, my sister and I  are going to take my boy to go pet dogs because I'm a kickass mum. Have a good day!" She blows him a heavily sarcastic kiss and the three keep on walking as though Mary didn't just shake every person within hearing range.

"Mama, what does those first words mean?" Peter asks. He's proud of him mama, but he doesn't know why. He wants to know why his mama is the best.

"Well, a sexuality is who you're attracted to. Lesbian is one of those. It's what you call it when a lady falls in love with another lady." Peter gasps and looks at his mama.

"They can do that?!" May and Mary laugh.

"Yes, patatino. Men can love other men too, that's called being gay. You can also love both ladies and men, which is called being bisexual. Think you've got that?" His face scrunched up a little, and the women gave the poor lad a moment to process all the information he got all at once. They walk for a few moments more. They spot the park off in the distance just as Pete speaks up again.

"Otay, so," He takes a big deep breath. "lesbian is a lady who likes ladies, gay is a man who likes men, and bisexual likes both?" May and mary both smile and congratulate him, so he smiles super wide, happy he learnt something new that made his mama and auntie happy.

"Wha about the other ones?" Mary takes a breath and May giggles.

"I think the second one will have to wait until you're older, tesoro. Sexist, though, that's when someone thinks their gender is better than someone else's or uses stereotypes about someone else's gender." This only gives Peter more questions!

"What's gender mean? And ster-oh-type?"

"Stereotype, sweetie. It means what everyone thinks a group of people act like. Your gender is how you want someone to see you as. So my gender is female, that means I want people to see me as a girl. If your gender is male that means that you want people to see you as a boy. Some people aren't either or are a mix of both, but people aren't so nice about that." His little nose scrunched up and his eyebrows pulled down towards his eyes. Pete would pull the same face every time he was confused but thinking - the two ladies found it adorable.

"But I thought that if you were a boy or a girl was your body?" 

"Nope! Some people are born in a body that doesn't match what they think they are, so they can change to be how they want! You remember how I told you clothes don't have to be boy clothes or girl clothes, they're just clothes? It's the same with bodies!"  Peter, finally understanding, smiles.

"What's that called?" He asks as they push open the gate into the park.

"Transgender." He stands for a moment with a big smile before he turns to look at his two favourite ladies.

"Thank you for answering my questions! I think I get it now... Can we get ice cream?!" And that was the end of that conversation.

"Tony Stark at his latest press conference announces himself to be the famous Iron Man. Our reporter, Sally Whinstead, reports now with-" Peter bounces pointing at the screen.

"Mama mama mama! Tony Stark is the Iron Man! I wanna be just like him when I grow up!" He bounced excitedly as he clicked together more LEGOs to make his WallE replica. Mary and May make eye contact for a moment and decide that maybe it's time to tell Peter who his dad is.

"Petey, baby, come sit here with mama and Auntie May for a second..." she says, patting the sofa next to her. He runs right over, always loving to sit and cuddle with his mama and May. "Do you remember what I said about your dada?" Peter had got a little more inquisitive about that once he started going to school. He came home crying after being picked on, ending in May and Peter having a one to one about his dad.

"You said that I don't know my dada because he's sexist and mean, but he knows that I'm his son in case of a big big big emergency and that it doesn't matter that he's icky, because you and May love me enough for ten of him. I don't want him to be my dada if he's that icky anyway!" May and Mary share a little giggle, both at the irony and the fact that Peter had never said that before.

"That's just right. Do you know anything about Tony Stark?" Peter's eyes lit up.

"He's Iron Man!" Mary and May laugh a little before May presses on.

"Anything else?" At a shake of his head, May keeps speaking. "He's sexist and mean." Peter gasps.

"Like my dada? That's icky! Iron Man can't be icky!" He makes his little angry face. "I don't like Iron Man anymore." Mary doesn't know if that's a good thing or not, and honestly, May quite can't decide either.

"We're telling you this Petey, not to make you hate Iron Man, but because Tony Stark is your daddy." Peter's little angry face melts away into one of surprise, then disgust, then curiosity and bashfulness.

"C-Could..." He wrings his hands. "Could we watch stuff about him? Jus so I can see more?" Mary smiles. She'd never cut her son off from information about his father, even if said father is a massive prick.

"Of course we can baby!" She even tried to find some of the few good articles of him. Peter ends up coming to his own conclusion that he doesn't like Stark much.

"Do you have to leave mama? I don't want you to go away again!" Peter wails, fat tears rolling down his face. Mary scoops him up to press kisses against his red cheeks and wipes away his tears.

"Yes, Petey, I'm sorry. Mama will be back before you know it, cherub. Only four days and I'll be home. Auntie May will be here the whole time, and we can call once I get to England. Just four days, baby." He kisses her cheek.

"Just four days? Promise?" May and Mary giggle.

"I promise, Petey. You won't even notice I'm gone before I'm home again." They cuddle as Peter mumbles about how he always notices when she's not there. May and Mary share a hug, and Peter is changed in arms. He cries into May's shoulder as his mama leaves in a way he hadn't in a while. 

"I love you, Petey, baby." She says with a kiss on his forehead. He wraps his arms around her neck.

"I love you too, mama." She leaves with a quick goodbye to May and another shared declaration of love to her son. Peter had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. He was right to feel so too, as Mary's plane went down before it got to London Airport, not one body to be found.