Teddy Bear
Tony had never been very good at sleeping. According to his mom, this had started when he was just a baby. As a child, he'd stayed up way past his bedtime, a flashlight and a book stashed under the covers. As a teenager, he'd started the habit of staying in the lab for hours, working until his eyes crossed and were so dry that they hurt when he blinked. This was a practice he kept all through college and well into adulthood.
Peter's arrival in his life helped a little, especially after he managed to fix his arc reactor. The boy was an early riser, and Tony hadn't wanted the boy to be alone in the mornings. So he'd started trying to go to bed at a normal hour, and had almost gotten used to getting up at six every morning to be up before Peter. Recently, the kid had been sleeping in a little more, and since he would be ten in less than a year, Tony wondered if he was going to start sleeping in.
Would he still want to get up at six in the morning when he was a teenager? Tony couldn't imagine Peter as a teenager. Couldn't imagine the boy having a rebellious bone in his body. But, as Tony knew all too well, turning thirteen could change everything.
Tony's sleeping troubles had only gotten worse in the last few months. First the wormhole, then Peter's disappearance, then his near kidnapping...all three featured prominently in his nightmares. He had dreams of the wormhole looming above him, of being trapped in space with all of those alien spaceships. He dreamed that he walked into his tower and couldn't find Peter, no matter where he looked. He dreamed that his son was crushed under a car but this time he couldn't get back to him. He dreamed that Peter was with his mother, arms outstretched, screaming for him, but he couldn't reach him. He just couldn't reach him!
The nightmares happened almost every night. Pepper was living somewhere else. He felt like a zombie, going through the days in a haze. He did his best to hold it together when his son was around, not wanting to scare him, but there had been a few near misses. A few days when he'd felt like one loud noise away from losing it. And yeah he'd heard of therapy. He knew he probably needed it. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. Couldn't bring himself to tell anyone all of this.
So he stumbled through the day and stared at the ceiling for as long as he could at night, until finally sleep would come and with it, visions of the wormhole and losing his son until he thought he might go insane.
It came to a head a month and a half after Peter had called him from a gas station in Buffalo, New York...a month and a half after Mary had slipped away, hopefully for good. He'd told her that she was welcome to visit as long as she cleared it with him first. He'd told her that he wanted Peter to have some kind of relationship with his mother. And then she'd kidnapped their son. As far as Tony was concerned, she was done. If Peter wanted to try and find her when he was older, Tony would help him, but for the immediate future, she wouldn't be stepping foot within a mile radius of his son.
This time, the nightmare was about Peter...he was gone. He was gone and Tony was racing through the halls of the tower, looking everywhere in slow motion because that's the only way he could move in nightmares. And he knew that Peter was gone. That if he didn't find him, he would lose Peter forever and in his sleep he screamed for his son, calling for Jarvis to find him, but the AI wouldn't respond and Tony knew, he just knew, that his boy was hurt and he needed him but Tony couldn't find him!
A hand touched his arm, and it was the person that had taken his son. Tony gestured, calling his suit. He wouldn't let them take him. He would make them tell him where his son was and then he would kill them and then he would find his son and bring him home. The armor formed, one of his Iron Legion standing beside him, arm out, repulsor charging…
"Daddy!"
The cry jerked him out of sleep just as the repulsor fired, and Tony stared for a moment at the suit standing in front of him, hand out, repulsor cooling as the color in the palm faded. The wall beside the bed had been singed, but the suit's face was looking up, lifting it's hand to point upwards. Tony followed the line of sight, jumping a little when he saw the boy in pajamas pressed to the ceiling, huge eyes staring down at him. "Peter?" He asked, jumping out of bed as the pieces in his mind came together. "Oh god...Pete...did it get you?"
Silently, the boy shook his head, and Tony made a rough gesture at the suit, glaring as it fell apart. Then he turned back to Peter, climbing onto the bed and standing up, holding out his arms. "I'm so sorry, baby. Are you okay?"
Peter sniffed but nodded, releasing his grip from the ceiling and climbing into Tony's arms, hiding his face in his shoulder. Carefully, Tony sat down against the headboard, heart clenching when the boy gave a soft sob. "It was going to shoot me…"
"I"m so sorry. I was having a bad dream...I didn't mean to call it. I'm so sorry."
"I thought the suits were supposed to protect us."
Tony closed his eyes and shook his head, exhaustion making his eyes water. "I'm sorry. Baby, I'm sorry." He felt tears run down his face as he squeezed his son as tightly as he could.
"You were yelling for me."
"I know." He swallowed, needing to give him some kind of explanation. I had a bad dream...I couldn't find you."
The boy sniffed, wiping his eyes and looking almost worriedly up at his father. "You're having lots of bad dreams."
"Yeah…" Tony nodded, scooting down in the bed so he could rest his head on the pillow, Peter scooting with him, turning naturally to lay against his side. "I know."
"I am too." Peter whispered it, head resting on Tony's shoulder, his knees pressing into Tony's ribs. At the admission, Tony turned to look at the boy, but he wouldn't meet his eyes in the dimly lit room. "I dream that mom...not Pepper, but Mary mom, comes and takes me, and I can't find you. Or that you give me to her and…" His voice cracked and he sniffed again, obviously fighting tears.
Tony hadn't noticed. He hadn't noticed because he hadn't been sleeping because of these stupid nightmares. His son had been having nightmares like this and he'd been scared but Tony hadn't noticed! Something in his brain seemed to switch on then...something serious and determined. He was going to call someone. As soon as they got up in the morning. Be it Rhodey for a recommendation or just whoever Jarvis picked for him. No way was he letting his little boy go through this alone. He shifted so that he could rub Peter's back, a silent invitation to keep talking if he wanted.
"Last night I dreamed that the bad guys killed you. I don't want you to go…"
Tony tightened his arms around him. "I'm so sorry. Pete...it's going to be okay. No one could ever take you from me. I wouldn't let them. I'll always keep you safe." He wiped a finger under Peter's eye, wiping a tear away. "What do you do when you have these nightmares?"
The boy seemed to flush a little in the dark. "Sometimes I get my old teddy bear out and hold him," he whispered. "I know I'm too big…" Peter started to go on, but Tony had to interrupt.
"You're not too big to need comfort, buddy. You're never too big for that. And if you need to, you can always come to me. Wake me up if you need to. I promise, I won't ever be upset. I don't want you to be alone if you're upset." He squeezed Peter in another hug, kissing the top of his hair. "I love you. More than anything. You know that, right?" Peter nodded. "And I'm going to keep you safe." He didn't just mean from aliens and people who wanted to take him. "Tomorrow, I'm going to find a doctor to help me….so I don't have so many nightmares. If you want, you can talk to them too. Maybe they can help you."
Peter hesitated, looking up at him unsurely. "Really?"
"Yeah, buddy. It might help. What do you think? Should we give it a try?"
After thinking for a moment, the boy nodded. "Okay. We can try."
Tony grinned. "Sounds good. For tonight, since I don't have a teddy bear to hold, I'll just have to settle with you."
He squeezed, surprising a giggle out of the boy who squirmed and then, when Tony's fingers found his side, he laughed aloud, kicking the covers and throwing his head back where it thumped into the pillow. "Dad!" He cried, trying to get away, but not really trying. At nine years old, Peter was stronger than Tony. By a lot. And the kid was usually very careful with his strength, but Tony knew that if he really wanted Tony to stop tickling him, he would get away.
"What's the matter, Pete?"
"Dad, stop!" He laughed, arms flailing and hitting gently against Tony's arms.
"Quiet down, buddy. It's time to sleep!" He couldn't hold back his own laugh as Peter screamed with laughter, twisting away just a little harder, and Tony stopped, resting a hand on Peter's side to keep him from rolling off the bed, then pulling him close, pressing a kiss to his forehead.
"I love you, Dad." Peter scooted closer, tucking himself into Tony's arms, fitting perfectly just as he always had.
"I love you too, Pete."
Within minutes, the boy's breathing had evened out, and Tony pulled the covers up, making sure he was covered up. Making sure he was warm. And safe. And then he rolled over, whispering to the ceiling. "Jarvis? Start looking for the best therapist in the state. See if Helen has any recommendations. I'll need a list by morning."
"Yes, sir."
Thank you so much for reading!! Happy Febuwhump!