Chapter 4
“He’s small,” Rhodey says, leaning over the incubator.
Tony bites back any sarcastic remark he might have about Peter being premature because his eyes are glued on his son as he sleeps and he feels preoccupied. Pepper stands next to him, her stance uncomfortable, but her eyes soft. Like she didn’t know exactly how to feel.
“He’s gorgeous,” she finally says. Tony knew Pepper didn’t really think of herself as a ‘kid person’, but she might just come around with Peter now in her life.
Tony hums in agreement. Peter shifts, making a small cooing noise that sounds as if he’s rousing himself. Tony sticks his hand in through the side of the incubator and touches his son’s hand softly.
“Hey, Bubba,” he says, “I’m here.”
Peter cooes once more and falls back into slumber. Tony hoped that the baby was finding some sort of comfort in his father being here with him.
“I’m here.”
----
Tony spent the next few days traveling back and forth from the hospital to his penthouse downtown. Pepper came with him for the first day, but then worked called, and she decided just to stay at the apartment and let Tony go on his own. The hospital conditions weren't exactly the most accommodating when she had to take conference calls on Tony’s behalf.
Rhodey only got so much time off, and he had to dismiss himself soon after arriving, but not before he promised both Tony and Peter that he would be visiting soon.
Tony spent as much time as he could in the NICU, before going home simply to lay in bed and continue thinking about his son. He couldn’t wait to bring him home, so when that day finally came, Tony was practically bouncing off the walls.
“He’s doing great,” Allison says as she watches Tony cradle Peter in his arms.
He had finally gotten the chance to dress him in proper clothing, and Peter was wearing a light blue bodysuit dotted in small, white clouds. On the baby’s head was his yellow hat and Tony had wrapped him up in a fluffy blanket that fit the child better than the monster-sized one he had been given a few days prior.
“He definitely is,” Tony says, feeling pride bloom in his chest.
“I’m gonna miss you two.”
Tony smiles at her. “You’ll have us replaced in about a week.”
Allison laughs, “Not likely. This is definitely a story to go in the books. Besides, Peter has loved hearing about your son. He thinks it’s amazing that they have the same name.”
Tony chuckles. He has enjoyed hearing about her Peter as well. Her story had given him hope, and he hardly had any worry any more. It was hard to be anxious when Peter seemed to be proving all of his fears false.
“I think I’ll miss you, too,” Tony says, “you have definitely made this whole thing easier.”
“Oh, please. My honor.”
Peter had to do something called the ‘car seat test’ before he could leave, which was basically where they just strapped him into his seat for about an hour and a half to see how he would take it. Tony watched him closely, but Peter stayed silent and perfectly healthy throughout the entire thing, and Tony smirked when it was all over.
“You show off,” he says, running the back of his finger over his son’s cheek.
Peter blinks up at him in response. His doe eyes shining.
Happy has the car pulled up front by the time Tony, Pepper, and Peter are ready to leave, and it definitely takes a few minutes to figure out how the car seat clips in. Miraculously, Peter sleeps through the whole thing, despite all the jostling and bumping.
Tony slips into the backseat next to his son, and Pepper climbs into the front.
“Just go careful, Hap,” Tony says, leaning forward.
Happy rolls his eyes. “Already dad-ing out, are we, Tony?”
Tony’s eyes narrow, “I’m serious. Pepper, tell him.”
Pepper raises a hand in defense. “Don’t drag me into this.”
“Don’t worry,” Happy says, putting the car into drive. “I’ll be careful.”
Peter is quite the entire ride out of the parking lot, but Tony does notice that he wakes up eventually. He seems groggy as he slowly rouses, but he doesn't make more than a low whimper.
Tony places a hand on the baby’s foot to give reassurance, and he watches as his son's eyes roam the ceiling above them like the carpeted-roof was incredibly fascinating.
It was not until they were pulling into the steady flow of traffic did Peter start to fuss. A low cry fills the car, and Tony can see Happy tense.
Tony places a hand on his son’s stomach and starts the slow, rhythmic motions, hoping to calm him down, but it does little to help. He assumes that it’s maybe the constant stop and go traffic that is aggravating the baby.
“Hey, hey, hey, Petey,” Tony says softly, “Bub, don’t cry.”
Peter only cried louder. Tony’s heart broke at the sound of his son’s whimpers, and he had to stop himself from undoing the seat belt and pulling Peter into his arms.
“Baby,” Tony says, leaning in as close as he can. “Baby Boy, I’m here. It’s me. It’s Dad.” Tony pauses for a second, a part of him surprised how easily he just said those words, but the child’s sobbing pulls him from his stunned silence. “That’s me, I’m Dad.”
Peter’s hand comes to rest on top of Tony’s, and a smile breaks out over the billionaire’s face. Peter’s crying slows down slightly, but he still fusses as the car jolts every few minutes. Tony continues the small circles over his stomach, but it showed no signs of working.
In the front seat, Happy’s shoulders are stiff as he reaches a rigid hand out to fumble with the radio. He flips onto a station and turns the volume up to a comfortable level.
Soft piano music suddenly fills the car, and the fist squeezing Tony’s heart loosens its grip as Peter’s cries dwindle into a sparse hiccup.
“You like that, Bubba?” Tony asks, hopefully. Peter just stares up at him with watery, wide eyes. “Yeah, I like Billy Joel, too.”
The first verse of “Vienna” started, and Tony let himself sit back in his seat as Peter stopped crying and started listening to the music. When Peter’s eyes dropped closed and his breathing evened out, Tony grinned.
“He’s out,” he whispered to the front of the car.
“Thank lord,” Happy says, exasperated.
Pepper snorts. Tony rolls his eyes.
“Get used to it, Hap. We only have him for the rest of our lives.”
----
When Tony first agreed to keep the baby, he was nervous about having to spend time with them alone. He was afraid that he was going to mess up somehow; change the diaper wrong, make the bottle too hot, not be able to get them to sleep… you name it, and he was worried about it.
But now, standing in the living room of his penthouse -- Peter’s car seat in one hand and his bag in the other -- Tony wanted nothing more than to be alone with his son.
“You sure you’re okay?” Pepper asks for the fourth time. Her toe tapped nervously against the tile.
Tony smiled. “Yes, Pep. Like I said in the elevator, I’m fine.”
She bit her bottom lip, her eyes running around the house, and then she sighs. “Alright. You know where to find me if it’s not okay.”
“Of course I do.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
Pepper doesn't move.
Tony sighs, puts down Peter (still sleeping in his car seat) and his bag and walks over to the woman. “Pepper. Seriously. I’m great. Trust me.”
It takes a second, but she finally nods. “Okay, alright. Fine. I trust you.”
“Awesome.”
She nods and turns, walking towards the door, and then out of the room. Tony looks back to see Peter now awake and staring up at his father from the car seat, curiously. It was funny to Tony how the seat made him so aware of how small his son is. Peter didn’t look real from where he blinked up at the man.
“It’s just you and me, now, Petey.” Tony walks over and unbuckled his son, pulling the baby into his arms. “What are we ever gonna do?”
Peter yawns, and it’s so cute, Tony wished someone had taken a picture of it. The way his button nose squishes up, and his doe eyes crinkle.
“A nap. Sounds perfect,” Tony starts walking towards Peter’s nursery. “You, Bub, have the best ideas.”
----
Peter fell asleep pretty easily, which Tony was over the moon about. The child was out almost as soon as Tony had placed him in his crib.
I gotta tell Pep she did an amazing job decorating this place, he thinks as he looks around the nursery.
Everything was perfect. The matching creme furniture; the light red and blue blankets and pillows. The rocking chair in the corner. The bookshelf was stocked. The mobile over the crib spun with clouds and stars. Tony especially thought the night light shaped like the moon was a nice touch.
He wondered how he would ever get it to look this neat and clean ever again.
With a baby monitor in hand, he crept out of the room and snuck into the living room. His plan was to turn on the television and just wait until Peter woke so he could feed him, but that plan was over before it even began, as Tony conked out as soon as he was properly seated on the couch.
He was woken up to the sound of crying, and as soon as he registered it as Peter, he was leaping to his feet. By the time he reached Peter’s room, the cries were loud enough that he could hear them outside the closed door.
Tony walked in and made a beeline to his sobbing son.
“Hey, Bub,” he says, scooping Peter up. He hoped that he would stop crying as soon as he had him in his arms, but of course, babies were not that easy.
Peter continued his crying, and Tony bounced him gently, shushing as he cradled the baby closer. “Please, Pete, I’m right here for you. You don’t need to cry, Baby.”
Tony walked to the kitchen, Peter sobbing on his shoulder. By the time they reached the pantry, Peter was gumming on Tony’s shirt.
“Pete,” Tony said with a slight smile, “I’m sure formula is gonna taste a whole lot better than cotton.”
It takes a few minutes to figure out how to make a bottle one-handed, but once he did, it was easy to warm it up and get Peter ready. The baby accepted the bottle instantly, drinking quickly.
“Not to fast, Petey. You’re gonna get a stomach ache.”
Peter looked up at Tony with his beautiful brown eyes, and soon enough, he was done. Tony burped him quickly, then they moved over to the couch.
“So, what do we do next?” Tony asked, staring down at Peter who was nestled in his arms. This time, Peter didn’t give him any ideas.
Tony reached over and ran his hand under the baby’s head; his feather-light hair softer than silk against his calloused fingers. Peter cooed slightly; a sound of comfort Tony was already falling in love with.
“Yep,” Tony says with a small smile. His heart pulled. “You’re definitely the new love of my life.”