Chapter 5
Tony wished that getting a baby to sleep would be easier than he was told. Maybe Peter was different… maybe he had a magic baby.
That idea was definitely proven wrong as Tony cradled Peter close to his chest as the baby sobbed, and the clock was nearing three a.m.
“Please, please, please, Petey,” Tony bounced his son with tired arms. “You don’t need to cry. I’m here. Please, I’m afraid you’re gonna tear your vocal cords.”
Peter ignored his father and continued to cry. Tony paced the nursery, his feet feeling like lead, and his eyes burning because Tony wouldn’t let himself close them for too long. He didn’t need himself falling asleep while holding a baby smaller than his forearm.
“What do you need, Bubba?” Tony asks for the hundredth time. “I fed you. You’re clean… if only you could talk.”
This was the first moment since bringing Peter home did Tony wish that he had a second set of hands. If only he could hand the baby off and slip away to get some sleep…
No, he thinks, his brows furrowed at his own thoughts. You said you would do this, and you will. Besides, the lack of sleep has never stopped you before.
“JARVIS?” Tony asked, looking up at the ceiling. The AI he had installed here was nothing more than a prototype, but it still worked well enough to give proper information. “Can I ask for your help here, buddy?”
“Certainly, Sir.”
“Awesome. I need to know another reason why Peter may still be crying.”
JARVIS is silent for a second before responding with, “The most common response I am getting other than needing to be fed or changed is simply that the child misses the parent.”
Tony looks down at his son, puzzled, and then looks back to the ceiling. “How could he miss me? I’m right here.”
“Peter is still very young,” JARVIS informs. “Infants of his age would not be able to see anything more than motion and light. I suggest talking to him more, to let him know you are there. The more he listens to you, the more he will associate your voice with comfort.”
Tony watches his son as the child continues to sob, pearly tears running down his face. Tony’s heart practically shattered. Peter may be crying simply because he missed Tony, yet he didn’t even notice that Tony was the one holding him.
“What to talk about…” Tony mutters to himself. He sighs, adjusting his hold on the crying bundle and moves to the rocking chair. “Alright, here goes nothing. Hey Peter, it’s me, your dad. Um, I don’t really remember a whole lot of my childhood. It’s kinda blurry, but I guess that makes a whole lot of sense… I wish your Grandma was still here. She would’ve loved you. Maybe more than me…” Tony laughs to himself, “Actually no. That’s not possible. I love you more than anyone ever could.”
Peter’s screaming turns into general fussing now, a cry that was louder than the others occasionally ringing out.
“My Dad wasn’t always there for me when I was little. He wouldn’t have even been there to talk to me at three in the morning like I’m doing now. But I did have someone else to take his place. My friend, Jarvis. He always loved me, and I loved him so much. But, like Grandma, he had to leave, and it’s not fair, but… well, Pete, it’s life.”
Peter replaces his crying with slow whimpers.
“I’m sorry that I don’t have an actual story to tell you, but I guess that’s more interesting than nothing. I promise I’ll have something better for you next time.”
Tony reaches up and wipes a few tears away from the baby’s cheek. Peter coos at the contact. Tony smiles.
“I thought it was lovely, Sir,” JARVIS whispers, causing Tony to chuckle lightly.
“Thanks, Jar.”
Tony could see that Peter was starting to drift back to sleep; his eyelids halfway closed. Tony continued to rock back and forth softly, and he decided to help ease his son into unconsciousness.
“Baby mine, don’t you cry. Baby mine, dry your eyes. Rest your head close to my heart, never to part, baby of mine…” Peter’s eyes finally slipped shut. “Never to part… baby of mine.”