“Mr. Stark, if you had to choose between lavender and vanilla, which one?” Peter asked as they strolled down the sidewalk, Tony’s arm around his shoulders.
He chuckled. “Hard decision, kiddo, but I’d go with lavender.”
Peter shook his head. “Wrong answer. Vanilla is way better. Wait, is lavender ice cream a thing?”
“I don’t know kiddo, it sounds interesting though. Should we ask FRIDAY to order us some?”
The boy laughed. “I dunno- hey look, Mr. Stark, there’s bubble tea!” Peter pointed to a shop across the street. “We should get some! Ned says it’s really good!”
Tony grinned. “Of course, Pete. Let’s go.”
They crossed the street, Peter bouncing in in excitement. “I’ve never had it before!” he exclaimed. “Have you? Ned said it’s great! Did I say that already? I wonder what kind of flavors they have?”
The inventor’s heart flooded with love and adoration and (over)protectiveness. He bent to press a quick kiss to his kid’s hair, hiding the tears that sprang to his eyes.
Before Peter, Tony thought that this much love couldn’t be humanly possible.
His kid’s warm brown eyes blinked up at him. “Mr. Stark, are you okay?”
Tony smiled. “Couldn’t be better.”
They walked into the shop, Peter inhaling the scent of lemon and fruits. His nose twitched and he stifled a sneeze. They stopped at the menu, where a perky looking young woman stood.
“Hi,” Tony greeted, ignoring the customers turning to face him with gasps and exclamations. Peter pressed himself further into his side, and the genius hugged him closer.
They studied the menu as the starstruck waitress stared at them. Finally Peter decided on a flavor.
“Ummm, could I have one lemongrass tea, please?” he asked, grinning adorably. “Just the small glass if that’s okay!”
The woman snapped out of her stupor and smiled. “Of course. I’ll get that right away. And for you, sir?” She turned to Tony.
He shrugged. “I’ll take a small lavender.”
Peter shot him a glare with no heat behind it. They sat in a quiet booth, away from prying eyes. Peter immediately started chattering away, playing with the saltshaker absentmindedly.
The waitress hurried to them, holding their drinks. Tony guessed the whole kitchen now knew that Iron Man and a mysterious boy were in their shop.
Peter sipped his drink. “Huh, this is weird!”
It had a strange lemony taste. He couldn’t decide if he liked it or not.
“You okay, Pete?” Tony’s voice startled him from his thoughts.
“Yeah, Mr. Stark! I… I just….” he trailed off.
Wow, it was hot in here. Was it this warm when they came in?
He blinked slowly, his tongue burning suddenly. He barely registered the worried look on Tony’s face.
Wait, Mr. Stark was talking. What was he saying?
Peter’s eyes were stinging and he felt too hot, like he had spent a day out in the summer sun. “M’s- m’ster S-Stark…” he tried. “W’a’s goin’ on?”
Tony looked scared. He cupped Peter’s face in his hands, asking soundless questions, his eyes frantic. The boy caught a few words like “Petey” and “Stay with me, baby” and “I got you.”
Huh. Mr. Stark looked really scared.
Peter tried to move his hand so he could comfort Mr. Stark, but it was limp and heavy.
The genius cradled him to his chest, stroking his cheek. His head turned and Peter assumed he was shouting.
Why was Dad shouting?
Ugh, it was so hot.
What happened to his tea?
~~~~~
Tony noticed something was off the moment Peter took a sip of his bubble tea. He was flushed and his eyes were glassy.
“You okay, Pete?” he asked, his tone borderlining on panic.
“Yeah, Mr. Stark! I… I just….”
“Petey? Peter, baby, what’s wrong?” he stood, his heart stuttering in his chest.
“M’s- m’ster S-Stark…” Peter slurred. “W’a’s goin’ on?”
“Petey, sweetheart, look at me, c’mon.” Tony cupped his cheek. “Stay with me, baby, just hold on, hold on. Please, baby.” He gently scooped Peter up, cradling him tightly against his chest. “I got you, mimmo, just breathe, okay?” He rubbed his back gently. “Come on, please, please, just breathe.”
His kid wheezed and choked slightly, his eyes wide and his face a deep red.
Clutching his baby, he turned his head. “Help us!” he cried. “Please, my-my kid! Somebody help! Peter, please, just hold, okay? Hold on for me, baby. Hold on, just keep breathing.”
Tony bit back a sob, trying to hold it together. He tapped Peter’s cheek to keep him awake, begging him to breathe.
A crowd gathered around him, gasping at the distraught, terrified Iron Man holding a small kid with blank eyes. Tony ignored them and kissed Peter’s forehead, rocking them back and forth gently. He felt tears trickling down his cheeks, and Peter wasn’t fucking breathing.
“Help us!” he screamed. “Help him, please! Please, I can’t lose him!”
God he couldn’t lose his kid he couldn’t lose his Peter please
Please please please no
Vaguely he could hear sirens nearing the tea shop, people shouting, and then the crowd parted and somebody tried to take his baby.
Tony snarled, protectively holding Peter tightly in his arms.
No, no no no you can’t have him, he’s my kid
“Mr. Stark! You need to let us take him. We can help.”
And then his arms were empty, and Peter was gone.
No!
“No!” he screamed. “Give him back to me!”
“Mr. Stark, please, calm down!” a voice insisted. “We have him, you need to calm down!”
But Tony would’t calm down, because his baby wasn’t breathing and wasn’t there with him and-
“Peter!” he screamed, catching sight of his kid, surrounded by strangers on a cot and god please not his kid.
He clawed his way to his baby, sobbing and just wanting to hold him close and never let go.
“Mr. Stark, calm down, sir!”
“No!” he cried, scrambling and trying to force his way to Peter. “No, il mio bambino, please! Please, not him not him!”
“Mr. Stark, he’s alright! He’s breathing, sir.”
Tony shoved away the nurses and doctors, cupping Peter’s red, slightly puffy face in his hands and pressing a firm kiss to his forehead. He sobbed, rubbing his thumb along his cheek, whispering words of love and agony and comfort.
The boy’s eyes were closed, the oxygen mask strapped tightly to his face, his breathing wheezy. Tony sniffed and kissed Peter’s forehead again and again, holding his tiny, cold hand.
“Mr. Stark,” said a man. “Can you tell us if he consumed anything? When did you first notice he was off?”
Tony answered their questions, his eyes never leaving Peter’s face. The paramedics loaded the stretcher into the ambulance, Tony not once leaving his kid’s side.
He didn’t move as doctors and nurses fluttered into the room, asking questions, taking tests, monitoring his vitals. He didn’t budge, stroking Peter’s delicate curls and murmuring his love to the boy.
More love than he once thought was humanly possible.
But it was possible, because he loved Peter, his baby, his kid, his universe.
“I love you, Petey. So so much.”
More than you will ever know.