Chapter 11
The new shopping haul was unpacked rather quickly, toys littering the floor and furniture boxes stacked in the guest room. Tony’s once sleek and rather bare bachelor pad was now looking more like a child’s playroom. A place littered with toys on the living room carpet, stuffed animals seated like people at the dining table and a toddlers plastic cutlery freshly washed and tucked away in the kitchen drawers.
It was starting to look like a home. Which was surprising, considering nothing a Stark owned had ever been seen as ‘homely’.
It was something Tony could never have imagined. Even his mansion in Malibu hadn’t felt this way, nor had the childhood home he had shared with his parents. They were all always too sterile, too tidy to feel properly lived in.
Oddly enough, Tony found himself enjoying the mess. It didn’t feel as vacant or lonely as his lab downstairs or his Malibu mansion had before he went and got it blown up.
The smile the new gifts gave Peter were a bonus. The boy was rather fond of his many new stuffed animals and endless supply of Lego, though his teddy bear from Harley remained a favorite.
Harley himself seemed pleased as well, happy to see his brother settling so well in the new environment. He was probably relieved more than Tony could imagine.
Pepper, however, didn’t seem to be all that pleased over the mess. Upon her entry, just before dinner time, she raised a questioning eyebrow at the floor before shaking her head, as if to say ‘for another time’, and made her way to where Tony was stationed in the kitchen.
She was in for an even larger surprise when she saw was he was up to.
“Are you… cooking?” She asked carefully, keeping a cautious distance from the man and the boiling pot of… something.
“Carbonara.” Tony said, stirring the contents of the pot before lowering the heat. “My mother’s recipe, she used to make this every Spring.”
What Pepper gathered to be a traditional Italian dish was a rather odd mix of spaghetti noodles, cheese and… eggs? Still, it was sweet to hear a pleasant memory from Tony’s past even though it unnerved her to witness him do something so domestic and responsible as to cook.
“I didn’t know you could cook.” She said, kneeling down to the wine fridge to select something. “Your consistent record of takeout was deceiving me.”
It was true, many of the local take-out places new Tony’s order by heart and would always start on his order as soon as F.R.I.D.A.Y. made the call. He often had it delivered straight to his lab door so he didn’t even have to make any effort.
He and Harley currently had a streak with the Thai restaurant around the corner.
“No use in cooking for only one person.” Tony said, voice flat and concerningly empty. It saddened Pepper but she supposed he had a point, she didn't like to go through all that trouble for only herself either.
“Where are the boys?” She asked instead, attempting to change the subject to something lighter. She always worried about talking too much about Tony’s childhood, fearing she would lead the mechanic into one of his reckless working sprees.
“They’re in Peter's room.” He said, unfazed how quickly the spare room across the hall had become ‘Peter's room’. “Harley’s showing Pete how to build a toddler bed.”
Pepper laughed, imagining a three year old building his own furniture.
“Hopefully you didn’t have him sleeping on the floor last night.” She said jokingly.
Tony stills in his chopping, knife raised halfway before resuming and answering:
“Actually, he slept with me.”
Peppers eyes widened. Tony didn’t like many people sleeping close to him after the disaster in Afghanistan. Sometimes he didn’t even fancy her near him. He worried he would do something drastic during a nightmare, perhaps lash out at her. Or at least, that’s what he said. Pepper suspected he was more wary of what others would do to him while he slept.
She wasn’t concerned about him hurting Peter, he had never raised a hand to her, in sleep or consciousness. Infact, she was worried about what sleeping with a squirming toddler would do to Tony.
“He slept with you?” She asked, not bothering to try and hide her surprise. Tony nodded.
“We had a little… mishap not long after he went to bed. Then, he wouldn’t stop imitating a koala so I just brought him to bed with me.” And then like an afterthought: “I woke up to his foot in his face.” He said, laughing.
Pepper nearly reeled. Tony did all that? Her Tony? Not so many years ago she had been worried he would accidentally knock up a girl and now he was taking care of a toddler he had taken in by his own will? It was heartwarming and, if she had to admit, rather shocking.
“Good for you, Tony.” She smiled, selecting a nice Pinot Noir to go with their meal. He gave her a small quirk of his lips in return.
“Would you go get the boys?” He asked, plating the pasta and mixing a vinaigrette into the arugula salad. She, of course, nodded and made her way to Peters new room.
As she entered, she noticed the place was just as hazardous as the main room. There were tools and spare parts littered across the floor, ripped wrapping and crumpled styrofoam from the packaging spread about.
Harley and Peter sat in the middle of it all, the older trying to show his younger brother how to operate a lug wrench. It was a sweet gesture, though the small bed looked mostly completed to her.
“Boys,” she called, knocking on the doorframe, “dinner.” Peter jumped at her voice, whipping around to stare at Harley and whisper something that looked awfully like ‘We get dinner tonight too?’
It made Pepper want to cry.
Harley nodded, standing and brushing the styrofoam particles off his jeans before offering his hand to Peter. The little boy took hold of it eagerly.
When the trio returned to the kitchen, Tony was just screwing the cap on a sipping cup full of milk. There were four place settings at the table already, two set with whine, one with the milk and a third with what could have been either bubbly water or soda.
She noted Peter had plastic ware instead of china and that Tony had taken it into consideration to chop the toddlers pasta into smaller, much shorter strands. That, and the small plastic booster in the boy’s seat warmed her heart.
Tony was really serious about all of this.
“This looks amazing, Tony.” Harley complemented as he sat down.
“Thank you Mr. Stark!” Peter smiled, watching Harley so he knew when he was allowed to begin.
“Alrighty, enough of that.” Tony laughed. “Let’s tuck in.”
And tuck in they did. By the end of their meal there was food everywhere. On the table, the boys’ chairs and all of the floor beneath where Peter was seated. The plates themselves were mostly clear, except for a little remaining on both Peppers and Peters plates and Tony was deemed an acceptable (more so than that but Harley and Pepper liked to tease) chef.
It felt good, to provide for the boys by doing something for those kids that couldn’t be bought. His parents hardly ever made home cooked meals (except on those few rare occasions, his mother) and he couldn’t recall one time in his entire life that he had shared a meal with both his mother and father.
He remembered lonely nights sitting at the long dining room table by himself, stirring his food around his plate and glancing longingly at the empty chairs, wishing there was someone to occupy them.
He remembered the sympathetic looks Jarvis would shoot him, eyes soft and heart large. If it weren’t for Howard, Tony didn’t doubt the faithful butler would have dined with his charge.
Tony liked the large gatherings as well. Meetings with the Avengers where they would fill the room and drink and laugh, smaller familial dinners with Pepper, Rhodey and Happy. Dinner with Pepper and Harley and now Peter warmed his heart ten fold.
He, Tony Stark, was breaking the cycle and it couldn’t feel better.
***
Pepper rightfully waited until after dinner, while Harley was assisting Peter with his bath, to badger Tony about that days meeting.
“How’d the confrontation go?” She asked. She had done some of her own research about this ‘Vivian Waters’ and was already forming her own, not so high opinion of the girl.
From what Pepper could gather, Vivian was a small time model living mostly off of her daddy’s trust fund and the states money she got through fostering. Surprise, surprise, Peter wasn’t her first charge.
“Oh the prick?” Tony asked. “Really friendly, we should get coffee together more often.” He stated sarcastically.
“That bad?” Pepper asked, wincing. She had, for admittedly the first time in her life, hoped she would be wrong about the meetings turnout. Tony sighed and nodded.
“Long story short, Pep” he said “she’s going to make this as difficult for use as she possibly can.” Pepper internally groaned.
“And in the meantime?” She asked.
“Peter stays here.” Tony decided. “She didn’t say anything about taking him back, only that she wouldn't allow me to adopt him. I think as long as she keeps getting the pay checks, she’ll let him stay here.” He finished. Pepper nodded, relieved that the toddler would at least be safe and comfortable and, most importantly, with his brother for the time being.
“I should have recorded it, Pep.” Tony said, so softly that Pepper had to strain her ears to hear it. “I should have recorded that fucking converstion.” He said a bit louder, but still quiet enough to be a whisper.
“You were stressed, Tony.” Pepper assured him. “That’s not your fault.”
“It is, though.” He insisted, shaking his head. His hands were clenched into fists, his back rigid with tension. “I should know better. It would have been helpful.”
She knew Tony wasn’t telling her all that went in that coffee shop but decided it was better not to ask.
“Maybe the beanery has a security tape?” She suggested. It wasn’t a bad idea, many places kept video record of the customers comings and goings. Tony seemed to think the same, as his head shot up.
“You, Mrs. Potts, are a genius.” He declared, face a little lighter, the tension in his shoulders a little less.
“I’m just doing my job, Mr. Stark.” She smiled. He was just about to come to her, just about to lean in the few more inches that separate them and kiss her when tiny feet patted down in the hall and into the kitchen where the pair were cleaning up.
Little Peter, in all his naked glory, was running down the hallway. The toddler didn’t seem to have a care about modesty, darting around the penthouse in his birthday suit. Not a moment later Harley came in, towel in hand and grinning.
“Sorry”, he said, smiling not at all apologetically, “but he wanted you to help him.”
The thought made Tony elated. Peter, this little, innocent toddler wanted his help? It must have meant he was doing something right, and that alone was a victory in Tony’s books.
Peter, who was currently trying to shimmy up a barstool for ‘safety’ is giggling large smile plastered on his still wet face. His curls drip water into his eyes, though he doesn’t seem to mind. Tony takes the towel from Harley, turning back to Peter with a menacing grin.
“Come here you little spider!”