Chapter 10
Tony sighed, running his hands through his hair, if a little harder than necessary. The cushy chair at the beanery seemed too soft and the usually pleasant smell of coffee only aggravated his nose.
Peter had been properly dealt with, and had rightfully received his cookie, and was now flipping through the dinosaur picture book Tony had spotted not that much earlier. Harely was peering over the boy’s shoulder, listening as Peter rambled about the different variants of the species.
Tony's thoughts were coming at a mile a minute, every possible ‘what if’ making him more and more nervous than the last. He didn’t know what he would do if he couldn’t get these boys placed together, if he failed. He didn’t know how he would live with himself, didn’t want to even think about how Harley would take things.
There was a sinking feeling of pure dread sitting in his stomach, the kind of hopelessness he hadn’t felt since Afghanistan and, before that, his parents’ deaths.
Peter, this downright minuscule child, filled with so much innocence and naivety has no idea his entire future was resting in Tony’s calloused and grease stained fingers.
Harley wouldn’t be much better off himself. The boy, currently itching learn and tinker, to prove himself, would probably fall down the lonely, reckless path that comes with grief. Down the rabbit while of alcohol and drugs, to busy wishing for the life that could have been to care.
Tony would need to call Pepper. He needed to tell her what had happened, how the conversation had gone. How badly it had gone.
For now, he pecked out a short text to her:
Assumptions confirmed; woman’s a prick. Meet us at the penthouse for dinner tn ;)
She would be disappointed no doubt. Hell, he was disappointed, if mostly in himself. How any interviews and press conferences has he gone to? Had he hosted? Practically from birth he had been the center of the media, swarmed by reporters and questioned by the public. He should have recorded the damn conversation. He should have planned before rushing in, given his nerves time to calm and his head a moment to clear.
Should have. Could have. Would have.
Didn’t.
And now there was nothing he could do but wait.
At least the witch hadn’t seemed too hurried on getting Peter back. In fact, now that Tony looked back on it, she hadn’t even asked were Peter was, where he had gone off to. If he was okay.
That key piece of the conversation would do great against the judge.
If Tony had, had enough sense to recorded the fucking conversation.
He wanted to shoot himself, smack himself over the head, fly his shit into the sun, he wanted to run himself over with his Audi, tie weights around his ankles and throw himself into the river, wanted to do something that wasn’t all that stupid.
But he had the boy’s.
He had responsibilities.
And even if it was only half of what he wanted, he still had a secure hold on Harley. He always would, the kid was his adopted son. That was a pretty damn good fifty percent if you asked Tony.
“M’done!” Peter declared, wiping the cookie crumbs on his hands onto his small blue jeans. Harley grimaced, quickly grabbing napkins and ridding the sticky digits of cookie remnants.
“Perfect!” Tony said, pushing his racing negative thoughts to the back of his mind, putting the boys at the forefront. Peters smile was contentious, and he found himself not having to feign his happiness. “How about we hit the shops, yeah? Happy should be here soon.”
Despite the situation, Harley smiled too.
Sure enough, not moments later Happy pulled up to the curb outside the coffee house. He was driving his usual choice of car, a black Audi with tinted windows. The newest model of course.
At first, Happy had seemed indifferent when Tony had announced his plans to adopt Harley. The man wasn’t really the kid type, preferring to be miserable alone and dwell in silence, something that definitely didn’t come with children. He had opened up quickly though, actually rather quicker than the rest of Tony’s close friends, driving the boy to the library and the salvage yard. Harley still preferred the public’s books and old scraps to whatever it was Tony offered to buy for him.
Tony supposed the quick warm up was all because of Harley’s charm. The boy had an aura around him, a personality that is hard not to like. He was smart, genius in fact, but was careful not to flaunt it. He avoided all chat about his traumatic past, avoiding any possible pity. But most importantly in Happy’s eyes: He doesn’t fall much.
Sure, he rants excitedly when he has a new project idea or wants to tell Happy about the movie he last saw, but he mostly just looks out the window. He’s a watcher and he likes the conversation to have an equal balance of participation.
Peter was not like that.
The trio worked to get in the vehicle, people on the street stopping in their activities to stare at the odd sight. Tony Stark with two children, Harley’s adoption was well known by this point (a merger they had decided to make public since it made virtually every matter easier) but Peter was a new addition.
He hoped that wouldn’t negate him in the judges view, the constant attention and publicizing the boy before he even had the slightest bit of legal guardianship for him. It made Tony think of the video and photo consent form he had had to sign when he and Pepper were enrolling Harley in school for the oncoming fall.
It was too late now, either way.
They still didn’t have a car seat for the kid, something Tony was absolutely sure fun size three year olds required. They managed though, for the time being that was, placing Peter between Harley and Tony, each with a protective hand on the kids legs. The seatbelt was far too loose for Tony’s appreciation.
It made him wonder when he had started to become so concerned about things like car safety. He never wore a seatbelt.
The first store they went to was Pottery Barn, simple essentials and furniture that couldn’t wait for shipping.
“He doesn’t really need anything.” Harley promised, trotting around the store with Tony, Peter on his hip. The kid was stroking his teddy bears head, mumbling incoherent things to it.
“I guess he doesn’t.” Tony agreed, browsing the sections until he came across the designated area for toddlers. “But there are some things that just make life that much easier.”
Like a small bed, for example. One that the kid wouldn’t be able to fall off of. There was definitely not going to be an adoption if they ended up in the hospital with a busted head.
“Which one do you like, Pete?” Tony asked, Harley still trying to process the situation. The boy had a hard time accepting the man’s generosity.
Tony didn’t ever remember picking what was on his room when he was younger. There hadn’t been much to the space at all, only the necessities and endless amounts of text books. Small models he had built in the little free time his father had allowed him. He wanted these boys to have it differently, to feel at home and like their room was their own space.
He had taken Harley out for decorations immediately, it was only right he did it with Peter as well. Even if, and God forbid, the boy didn’t stay with them permanently, the money it cost to have him comfortable for that short time was worth it.
The perks of being a billionaire.
Peter shrugged, looking around at the selection.
“That one?” He asked, pointed to a small oak colored bed. It was one of the few with guardrails that ran halfway down each side. Tony liked that. A lot.
“Good choice, kiddo.” Tony praised, Harley smiled. It was a wholesome compliment, the kid had a good taste.
“Your serious about all this?” He asked, shifting Peter on his hip. Tony wanted to offer to take the boy, but opted to stay quiet and not risk imposing. The question was still being said, repeated over and over like and endless mantra of disbelief.
Each time, Tony was going to have the same answer:
“As serious as I could ever be.” Tony answered, already adding the dresser, nightstand and toybox to their registry (as well as a car seat for heaven's sake). Harley switched between wide eyes, gaping and smiling.
“Now Pete, what bedding would you like?” He asked to the now, standing boy.
“Iron Man?” Peter asked, looking around for the hero.
“You sure about that?” Tony laughed nervously, glancing up at Harley. The damn kid had a shit eating grin on his face. Peter nodded enthusiastically. “Alright then.”
Where this kid got this fascination with Iron Man from, Tony had absolutely no idea. It was weird, having this child idolize you. Tony felt like he didn’t deserve it, like Captain America was a far better option than himself.
After all, there was plenty of ‘Mr. America’ merchandise for the boy to change his mind.
They headed to the toy section last, leaving the excitement for the boy. Peter had previously been stumbling and nearly dozing, tired from missing an afternoon nap Tony hadn’t even thought to offer but had instantly woke up when he sat the aisles of gleaming plastics.
Shelf upon shelf of every kind of toy a young boy could ever wish for stood in front of them. Peter giggled excitedly, running and jumping, his light up shoes flashing crazily. If it promised a smile like this from the kid everyday, Pepper might have to stop Tony from purchasing a toy factory.
It was another thing absent from his own childhood, ridiculously overpriced plastic toys and colorful stuffed animals. His father preferred that he play with wires or tools and, on some days, code. Sometimes he liked it but, most of the time, it had simply made him miserable.
He didn’t want history repeating itself.
There were Star Wars toys added to the cart by a very apprehensive Peter. Toy received a beaming smile every time the boy received a yes.
But oh boy the Lego. There were so many Lego. Star Wars and Avengers and Iron Man and dinosaurs and little figures very suspiciously reminiscent of the cartoon they had been watching that morning.
He remembered how Peter had been so excited just to tell Tony about the lego set he had wished for and how happy he had been at simply having a dream about creating the structure. The absolute pure happiness stretched across the kids face was the same excitement, only ten fold.
The legos kept adding up, the boy’s smile too endearing. There were so many, in fact, that Harley had to stop the boy before Tony could run his account dry (and impossible thing that probably would have become possible if Harely hadn’t stepped in and told Peter ‘that’s enough’) .
Tony just didn’t know how parents had the willpower to say ‘no’ to a face like that.
Suddenly walking around the store and seeing all the small trinkets, seeing Peter so happy to be spoiled and Harley so happy that his baby brothers excitement was wholesome and lasting seemed to dull Tony’s earlier sense of dread.
He still needs to call Pepper, the rational side of himself knew that. Knew this wasn’t the end of the road and things were about to get a lot harder than the coffee house today but it didn’t seem to matter. What seemed to matter were the two boys laughing in front of him as they made their way back to where Happy was waiting for them in the car. What mattered was that maybe the end was soon, whether good or bad, and when it did come, Tony wanted to have had spent as much time with Harley and Peter a possible.
After all, these boys were changing him for the better.
He had just bought toddler bedding with many depictions of his own face on it.
This was life now, and for all its embarrassment, for all the added stress, he hoped it stayed this way.