Chapter 9
Tony woke up to two very prominent things the next morning. The first, being Peters foot in his face -which ended up being, shockingly, the nicer surprise of the two- and the second, his blaring cell phone.
He was a little shocked that the obscene loudness of the obnoxious noise didn’t wake the boy up (who he had been forced to bring to his bed the night before after Peter secured a vice like grip around the man’s neck), but he guessed it was only proof of Harley’s statement from the night before.
Tony grunted when the ringing continued, closing his eyes in frustration before disentangling himself from the mix of tiny limbs and twisted sheets that had him trapped in the bed. He grappled for his phone, flipping it over once his fingers felt the sleek material.
The caller ID read: Pepper.
He fumbled for the phone, remembering their conversation from the night before and hurried to slide his finger across the screen to answer.
“Yes, yeah? What is it?” He hurried to ask, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with the thumb and forefinger of his free hand.
“I just got a return email from Peters foster mother.” Pepper breathed. It was hard to tell her emotion through just her voice. It’s sounded even and calm to Tony, but there's an underlying concern and Pepper is far too good at concealing her emotions. Is the email bad enough to warrant concern?
“And?” He prompted, heart thumping nervously. “What did she say?” He sat up more straightly, rubbing a hand through his sleep tousled hair.
“Not much, she seems like a prick if I’m being honest. She did say she wants to meet with you, this afternoon.” Pepper said. “Something about the coffee shop by Central Park and making ‘arrangements’ ? Whatever that means.”
Tony chuckled. Sighing at the end. This whole process was confusing, jumbling his emotions.
“A prick, fantastic. Did she give a time?” He asked. Peter is still breathing soft, sleep laced puffs beside him.
“Yeah, two o’clock.” Pepper read. “And please, for the love of God, Tony.” Pepper stressed, so much so that Tony could practically feel her incoming migraine himself. “Please try and be on time.”
“I’ll take your advice into consideration, Ms. Potts.” Tony responded, smirking. “But you did say she was a prick.”
“ Tony-“ Pepper begins to reprimand, voice cutting off when Tony ends the call. He sets the phone back down on the bedside table, allowing his head to fall back and bang against the headboard.
“Owie.” Came a small voice at his side. He looked down to his left, bleary brown eyes peeking from behind ringlets of curls. Tony huffed a laugh at the reaction. “You meetin’ Ms. Vivi?” Peter asked, voice slightly slurred with sleep.
“You heard all of that, kid?” Tony asked. The kid had been sneaky, Tony could have sworn that he had been asleep the whole call. Nevertheless, Peter nodded. “Fuck, kid. You have good hearing.”
Peter squinted, tilting his head to the side.
“Fuck?” He asked, obviously confused by the new word. Tony’s eyes widened, panicked. Little kids need sensoring, right. Shit.
No, crap . Ugh, this was going to be hard.
“No, no, no. Pete those are grown up words.” He hurried to explain. It wouldn’t do to have Harley hear Peter use that kind of profanity. Especially right after Tony had just gotten the teen to loosen his grip on the reigns of parenting. “You can’t say those words until you can knock one back, yeah?” He explained, wincing at his choice of explanation. Definitely did not have this whole parenting this down just yet.
“Huh?” Peter asked, head tilted in confusion.
“Never mind. Just don’t say that word, okay?” This wasn’t going well. At all. But Peter was a good kid, right? One who listened and wouldn’t go around saying things like fuck.
Hopefully.
That would not go over too well in a courtroom, or with Pepper. Toy shivered, that was a scary thought.
“M’kay.” Peter agreed, nodding.
Tony huffed a relieved sigh. He had gotten an agreement, even if there was a slyness to the kids smile and a mischievous glint in his eye. Peter was smart, he knew time and place. As long as he didn’t say it in public.
Yeah, Tony was so screwed.
***
Metal silverware clinked on the delicate porcelain of the bowls, the happy chattering of children’s cartoons doing little to muffle the sound. Harley had joined them in their pajamas fest and Tony, not having near enough groceries in the house, had suggested the quick fix of cereal for breakfast.
Besides, something lighter would be easier on Peters, apparently, sensitive stomach. Much better than pancakes and bacon.
The kid himself had been seemingly appalled at the idea of his Cheerios and milk touching (how dare Tony for making that mistake) and was instead opting for munching on fistfulls of dry cereal and a sippy cup of milk.
(The Cheerios were being eaten out of a lidless sippy cup after Harley had -quite wildly- shook his head at the near use of porcelain. An idea which, considering the boy of origination, was pretty genius. Afterall, Tony had only been with Peter for sixteen hours and could already tell the toddler was beyond clumsy. Tony would have to get some plastic ware for meal times.)
Harley had more cereal than milk as well but, like the civilized adult he tried so hard to be, ate his in a bowl with milk and a spoon.
Still, with both of the two boys ( especially Peter) Tony didn’t doubt he’d have enough cereal in between his couch cushions to satisfy a second serving by the time the kids declared themselves finished. And strangely enough, he didn’t find himself minding that.
Harley seemed more relaxed than he had last night, feet curled and criss crossed beneath him as he munched on his breakfast. His hair was still messy from sleeping, dirty blond locks and curls pointing every which direction. His eyes were even still somewhat bleary, as if his body hadn't completely woken up yet.
His eyes didn’t constantly flash to check on Peter either, a habit Tony had easily picked up on the night before. The teen seemed satisfied that if his little brother were to need something, he would come to him himself, or (and wasn’t this exciting?) entrusted Tony to take care of it.
It was a big development from the night prior. Their trust was much stronger than it had been only mere weeks ago. Tony supposed it was the months spent in the lab together, he forced into trusting each other’s mechanical knowledge and basic common sense for safety.
One thing that was obvious to Tony about these kids, was how goddamn early they both seemed to wake up.
On the days he made it to his bed, dragging himself from his lab before he passed out, he would sleep into the late hours of the morning. Sometimes, even the early afternoon, if Pepper didn’t so rudely invite herself into his home and drag him to any functions.
That might be a harder adjustment than the midnight puke escapades.
It just means more coffee.
Speaking of which, Harley was sipping on his very own steaming cup. A treat Tony hadn’t had the heart to deny.
He doubted it was good for the kid (seep was better than caffeine, even he knew that) but by fourteen he had been guzzling the substance to make it through his classes at MIT. In his eyes, thirteen was fourteen and the bags under the poor kids eyes were enough of an excuse in of themselves.
It had been a hard couple of days. Weeks. Months.
The show on television was one of those toddler or young kid aimed animations with the talking animals, this one seemed especially partial to dogs (Paw…. something, Tony wasn’t really paying attention ) and seemed to have stolen Peters full attention long ago. Cheerios fell from the boy’s tiny wrists as he absentmindedly chewed.
“So.” Tony began, easily grasping Harleys attention. The boy had been looking out the floor to ceiling windows to the side of the screen, watching the city. “Pepper got an email this morning, Peter’s foster mother requested a meeting this afternoon.”
Harley considered the information.
“Do we all have to go?” He asked. “Or is this just a you thing?” It wasn’t said with the same bitterness that the phrase would have held months ago, when Harley would spit at the mere thought of someone just dying to meet the great Tony Stark.
“I’m thinking just a me thing, kid.” Tony replied, swirling his spoon around his now empty bowl. That was another thing about these kids, there making Tony actually eat.
Harely nodded, glancing at Peter who, in turn, was still captivated by the show.
“We could just stay here?” Harley suggested. “Or wait outside for you? I don’t really want him around her.” The boy was looking nervous again, as if the idea of his baby brother and this supposed witch in the same room gave him the creeps.
Tony just couldn’t wait to meet her.
“That sounds good.” Tony nodded. “You can sit in the park across the street. I was thinking you two could do some shopping? Just look on your phone for some clothes and things he might need. Or you, for that matter.”
There were a lot of things Peter would need, most of which weren’t immediate but it was better to be prepared than not to be.
“Then when I’m done we can go get the immediate necessities and some groceries?” Tony asked. Harley nodded in agreement, but his face was creased with worry. “What's wrong?” Tony asked.
“Doing you think this is going to work?” Harley whispered. “Do you think we’re actually going to be able to win this?” He asked.
Tony paused. Harley was old enough, and definitely smart enough, to figure out the basics on his own. But, he was still a kid and stressing the poor boy out about things even Tony himself wasn’t sure about wasn’t going to do anyone any good.
So Tony gave him the most honest answer he could come up with:
“I hope so.”
***
The coffee shop was small and definitely not Starbucks. There were large leather chairs scattered about, a couch, a coffee table, and a rickety bookshelf filled to the brim with worn novels and picture books. There was a particularly well loved dinosaur one that Tony couldn’t help but think Peter would like.
That, and the giant chocolate chip cookies in the store’s glass case.
He wasn’t there for the treats or books though, and the well dressed women in the corner seemed to be the reason he was thinking of.
She certainly looked like a prick, at least to Tony. She wore a tight, dark violet dress and knee high black boots. Her golden hair was curled to tight ringlets, her perfectly french-manicured nails tip tapping away on her chair’s armrest.
Tony swore he could see his own reflection in the girls lip gloss.
“Tony Stark?” She hurried to greet as she looked him up and down like eye candy. “Pleasure to meet you, I’m Vivian Waters.”
Well, at least she had some manners.
“Nice to meet you.” Tony said, keeping with formalities and shaking her hand. She gripped it with delicacy yet firmly, like she didn’t want to go. “Peters told me a lot about you.“ He redirected.
It seemed that, once again, he had started counting his chickens before they hatched.
The mention of Peter seemed to snap her out of her vigor.
“Yes, Peter, he’s such a sweetheart.” She smiled, puckering her glossed lips before flashing pearly white teeth.
“Yes.” Tony agreed, the girls demeanor began to saddle into creepy. “He is.”
“And you’ve taken a liking to him?” She asked, voice sickly sweet and venomous.
“I adopted his brother not long ago.” Tony supplies. “Harley.”
“Yes.” She said, recognition and disgust overcoming her features. “I know him.” Tony clenched his fists, trying (and struggling) to contain his violence. How dare she talk about his kid like that.
“The boys would be happier together, as they should be.” Tony said. “I’m just trying to mend what was lost when they entered the system.”
“It’s really a shame.” She sighed, inspecting her long acrylic nails before she stood from the chair. “I really like Peter, he’s quiet, and the extra income’s nice.”
“He really would be happier with Harley.” Tony insisted as she came closer.
“I like that boy, Mr. Stark.” She said. “Are you sure you wouldn’t be willing to offer me anything for him? I’d be happy with a trade.” She stroked his arm, long fingernails tickling his skin. He stepped back reaching for the door.
“You should watch the news more often.” He said. “Miss Potts has my undying faith.”
Her face hardened at the sound of Peppers name, eyes turning stone cold. She followed him outside to the sidewalk.
“No bed, no boy, Mr. Stark.” She scowled. “Now, I’m going to ask you one last time, are you going to give me a special little something in return?” Her voice was sickly sweet again, with undertones of pure evil.
“No.” He said. “I’m hoping you’ll do the right thing for the kids. For Peter.”
“This one’s on you , Stark, not me.” She spat, before turning on her heel and marching down the street. Tony sighed, running his hands through his hair.
Definitely a prick.
He turned around, Peter and Harley walking almost right into him. Harley palmed his cellphone, grasping his brothers hand tightly. Peter fiddled with Harley’s prototype Teddy bear, which he had insisted on bringing along.
“Whats up, boys? I thought you were in the park?”
“We were.” Harley says. “Peter has to go to the bathroom, I tried texting you but you didn’t answer.” He looks around Tony’s shoulder and down the street. Vivian is nowhere in sight. “Is everything okay?”
“Just peachy.” Tony groans just as Peter looks up from his teddy bear. Seemingly just realizing where they are, he perks up and asks:
“Ca’ I ‘ave a cookie, p’ease?”