“It doesn’t matter I still have Christmas lights up, May is just early December.”
“Early December? No, it’s not, it’s late December. January-June is late December, and July-November is early December. It’s science.”
“What about it being early-early December? Like Christmas Eve Eve!”
Peter rolled his eyes at Ned’s last comment, throwing a dubious look at his friend as they exited the building. “Okay, now you’re getting ridiculous.”
Ned huffed a laugh and the pair made their way down the high school’s front stairwell. “You’re just giving up because you know I’m right.”
Peter scoffed and rolled his eyes. Glancing to his left he spotted the familiar silver glean of his dad’s Audi. “Sure dude. Hey–are we still on this weekend to binge Stranger Things?”
Ned’s eyes lit up. “Hell yes, I’ll see you Saturday!”
Peter waved goodbye to his friend and walked over to the car, throwing his backpack in the back and plopping unceremoniously into the passenger seat. Tony glanced at him amusedly over the rim of his purple-tinted sunglasses. A smirk graced his face as he waited for the kid to buckle his seatbelt.
“Hey kiddo, what’s the news?”
Peter then launched into an explanation about his school day, starting Ned passing him a funny cartoon in Calculus to his History teacher handing back their latest essay. Tony nodded and asked questions throughout, laughing at the speech bubble above the cartoon and lightly telling Peter to make sure he’s not caught passing notes in class. Peter playfully rolled his eyes but tucked the cartoon back in his binder.
When they got back to the penthouse Peter yawned as he made his way to the kitchen table to begin his homework. “What’re we having for dinner tonight?”
Tony tossed his suit jacket and tie over the back of the couch and walked to the kitchen pantry. He emerged shaking a box of pasta. “Lasagna!”
Peter did a quick calculation in his head at the amount of time that took to cook. “Awesome! I’m going to shower then I’ll start on my homework.”
Tony nodded at Peter’s retreating form, already playing soft classic rock throughout the kitchen.
***************************************
Peter threw on a graphic t-shirt, shaking his head to get the residual water out. Once he was satisfied, he ran a hand through his hair to make it at least somewhat presentable because he knew his dad would make fun of him for the towel spikes. He just about finished up when a loud alarm rang throughout the penthouse.
Peter froze. His feet steeling to led before his brain kick fired back into gear and he was running out of his room back to the kitchen.
When he arrived he saw Tony had already turned off the stove and was making his way over to the teenager.
“You know the drill kid, if I’m not back by morning Happy will take you to school. And if you need anything call Pep or Happy and they’ll be there. Understood?” By now the man was standing directly in front of his son, waiting for the boy to nod signaling his understanding.
He leaned in, wrapping an arm around the kid’s shoulder to bring him close to his chest. He pressed a kiss against the side of his head before pulling back, keeping a hand on his shoulder and looking the boy in the eyes.
“I love you Peter, I’ll be back soon.”
Peter nodded, his brain finally catching up. Despite the fact that this was nowhere near the first time he’s heard the Avengers alarm sound, it struck him with fear every time. “I love you too, dad.”
Peter stared at Tony’s retreating back long after the elevator carried him to the Avengers awaiting Quinjet. He glanced to his forgotten physics and English homework on the kitchen table. A distraction was probably what he needed. Peter willed himself to focus as the words of Wallace Stevens and John Donne danced in front of him, unwilling to stand still.
This was going to be a long night.
***************************************
Tony hadn’t returned by morning so Happy drove him to school. Peter got out of the car without a word, anxiety buzzing at the back of his head as he rolled through every possible negative scenario that could be happening.
His negative thought spiral was interrupted when Ned came bounding over to him, talking animatedly about how his mother agreed to buy him the new Lego set he’d been wanting as long as he aced his finals. Peter tried to pay attention, throwing in an excited agreement every now and then.
It was hard to focus when Peter kept checking his phone every five minutes. He didn’t want to miss a call or text check-in from his dad letting him know he was back in the city. There were standard meetings and debriefings afterward but Tony always let Peter know he was around and alright as soon as he could.
Peter bit his nail and stared out the window. Only two more class periods left. He caught Ned throwing a concerned look back over his shoulder but Peter ignored it. Ned was used to Peter getting like this when his dad was on a mission, it happened enough that Peter didn’t want to talk his way out of the panic. He just wanted his dad to come home.
***************************************
Peter was sitting at the kitchen table finishing up chemistry homework when the loud ping of his Stark phone pulled him from the equations swimming before him. He practically lunged for his phone, letting out a relieved sigh at the contact image of Tony in bunny ears from last Easter. He answered the call and held the phone tight in his grasp.
“Dad?”
“Hey Peter, it’s Steve.”
Peter swore his heart stopped beating. Why was Steve calling? Why couldn’t his dad talk to him himself? What happened?
“Peter are you with me? Listen...there was an accident with the mission. There was a blast and your dad took the brunt of it. We’re here in the S.H.I.E.L.D. medical wing–Happy is going to come and take you here okay?”
Peter tried to process the words, his brain working both overtime and incredibly slow. He blinked, flipping the sentence over in his mind as the relayed what Steve had just told him. “Dad was hit? Why isn’t he calling me? Oh my god.”
His breathing picked up and grew shallower, he could barely hear the sounds of Steve working to regain his attention over the phone.
“Peter, Peter listen to me. Your dad is going to be fine. Do you hear me? He’s unconscious right now, but the S.H.I.E.L.D. medical team says he’s going to be okay. Peter, can you hear me?”
Peter nodded before realizing Steve couldn’t see him. “Yes. Okay. Happy’s coming?”
“Happy’s coming. I’ll see you soon.”
Peter paced, holding his phone close to his chest willing Steve to call back and say it was a mean prank but his dad is fine and he’s just about to walk through that door. Another ping alerted Peter that Happy was waiting with the car. Peter ran to the elevator and began his descent.
***************************************
The first thing Peter noticed when walking into his dad’s medial room was how still he was. Tony was always moving around, toying with small objects left around or pens he kept in his jacket pocket. He was always moving, always thinking, and most of the time wouldn’t shut up.
Now he was still. Maybe there was sound, but Peter couldn’t hear much beyond the heartbeat drowning his eardrums. He felt more than saw Steve make his way over and lay a hand down on his shoulder. The fifteen-year-old looked up with tears in his eyes.
Steve crushed the kid against his chest, hands rubbing up and down his back as Peter’s cries grew louder. He waited until Peter calmed slightly before speaking. “He’s going to be okay, Peter. We’re just waiting for him to wake up now.”
Peter broke out of Steve’s grasp, scrubbing a hand down his face and pressing the heel of his palms against his eyes. He took a shuddering breath before shoving his hands in his jacket pocket.
“When is he going to wake up?” His voice sounded stronger than he felt. Peter stared at Tony’s face, avoiding eye contact with Steve and Bruce in the room.
Bruce cleared his throat, stepping up on Peter’s other side. “We’re not sure yet. His body is healing and letting him rest. We just need to be patient.”
Peter shrugged off the hand Bruce laid on his shoulder. He didn’t want to be patient. He wanted his dad to reprimand him for being rude to Uncle Bruce, he wanted him to make fun of Steve for being comforting, he wanted him to tell Peter he was proud of him for acing the English exam because he knows how much the teenager hates poetry. He was trying not to get worked up, but every time Tony was hurt after a battle he was there to tell Peter what was wrong and that it was going to be okay. Now he was laying there, still, and there was nothing Peter could do about it.
He walked past the two men and took the available chair next to Tony’s bedside. He reached over and held one of Tony’s hands between both of his. He heard someone sigh behind him before a heavy hand landed on his shoulder once again.
He turned his gaze up to meet bright blue eyes looking at him softly with an open display of worry. “It’s okay Peter, I’m not going anywhere either.” Steve smiled tightly before taking the available chair next to Peter.
The tears started to fall again when Steve set a gentle hand on his knee. “What if he doesn’t wake up?” The words were whispered, but Steve heard him anyway.
“You dad is real strong Peter, you’ve seen how hard he fights. He’s going to wake up.”
***************************************
When Tony didn’t wake up by morning the next day, Peter did everything he could to convince Steve and Happy in letting him stay home from school. It was only with the reassurance that Steve wouldn’t leave Tony’s side until Peter got back did he finally agree to go.
Two more days went on like that, and Peter had almost completely lost the ability to focus. By now the news broke that Tony was being hospitalized due to a recent Avengers mission and his teachers turned a blind eye when they caught Peter staring out the window obviously ignoring their lecture. He had nightmares the past two nights of Tony dying in that hospital bed, his face as white as the sheets while Peter was at school unaware that his dad was slipping away.
Peter shook these thoughts from his mind as he packed up his bag when the final bell rang. He walked out the front doors to see Happy’s black car in the same place it has been these past two days.
Peter opened the door and climbed into the backseat. He propped an elbow against the handrail and laid his chin on his fist. He let his eyes unfocus as the city zoomed past them.
“What, no ‘hey Happy’ for me?” The driver gave a playful smirk through the rearview mirror in an effort to lighten the mood in the car.
Peter looked over a mumbled a quiet, “sorry” in response.
Happy sighed and turned the dial to Peter’s favorite radio station, letting the music drift softly through the car. Thirty minutes later the pair pulled up to S.H.I.E.L.D.’s medical facility. Peter slung his backpack over his shoulder and made his way through the corridors.
The turns and steps leading to his father’s room were familiar, and Peter hated it. He hated that he knew his way around this facility, he hated the pitying looks S.H.I.E.L.D. employees gave him as he walked passed, he hated–
Peter froze. He could hear someone talking. He knew that voice.
He took off in a sprint, making the last residual turns that led to his dad’s room. He reached the entryway and stopped.
His dad was propped up in bed, speaking softly to Steve on his left. Peter blinked, tears unintentionally filling his eyes. Tony turned his head when he saw movement in the doorway, breaking off when he noticed it was Peter. A smile spread across his face upon seeing his son.
“Hey, Petey.”
Tears ran down Peter’s face. Tony looked okay, but it had been three days since he heard his father’s voice. Part of him wanted to run to Tony and check for himself that he was alive and alright, and the other part of him was rooted to the spot.
Steve reached over and squeezed Tony’s wrist gently before standing. He walked past Peter and pressed a hand lightly on his back before stepping out into the hallway.
Tony’s eyes filled with concern at the fact Peter still hadn’t moved. “I’m okay sweetheart, come here.”
That broke the dam and suddenly Peter was running over to Tony’s bedside, throwing his arms around the man’s neck and burying his face in his chest. Tony muffled a grunt at Peter’s weight on his bruised ribs. Peter heard it anyway an immediately began to let go. Tony, having none of it, simply shifted the kid until he was more along his side than directly over his chest.
After a few minutes, Peter pulled back and rubbed his jacket over his eyes. “I was so worried, it was three days and..” Peter looked down at the bed sheet he was wringing between his hands. “I was worried you weren’t going to wake up.”
Tony reached out and cupped his son’s cheek in his hand. He rubbed his thumb under Peter’s eye, brushing away stray tears that continued to fall. “What have I always told you? Stark men are made of iron. What does that mean?”
Peter sniffed and leaned into the touch on his face. “It means we never give up.”
Tony smiled and moved his hand to brush through the kid’s hair. “That’s right. We never give up, and I’ll never give up on making my way back to you kid.”
Peter smiled. The stress and fear from the past three days finally lifting from his shoulders. In its place exhaustion settled in. Tony did a once over of his son before shifting slightly on the bed.
“What’re you doing?” Peter reached out a hand to assist but Tony waved him off. He settled again against the pillows and curled a hand around Peter’s arm.
“I’m fine, just rearranging. Come here and lay next to me, you look exhausted.”
Peter was already shaking his head. “But you’re hurt! What if I hurt you more?”
Tony rolled his eyes and huffed. “I have bruised ribs and a headache, I get that every other weekend.”
Peter shook his head but climbed into the bed despite his reservations. He let Tony arrange him so Peter wouldn’t pressing on any sensitive areas. As soon as he was settled, Tony’s arms encircled around him and Peter let out a long relieved breath.
They laid together for a while, and eventually Peter fell into a restful sleep. Tony simply smiled and brushed away the hair that had fallen into his son’s eyes.
Steve walked in and smirked when he saw what Tony was doing. “You know, you’re a great dad, Tony.”
He smiled back and continued his ministrations through Peter’s hair. “Hey, they don’t give out the ‘world’s greatest dad’ mugs to just anybody you know.”
Steve laughed, crossing his arms and leaning against the room’s entryway. “The team is dying to see you, you know. I’ll tell them to come back later, looks like you’re having a pretty good moment right now.” He grinned and moved out of the doorway, closing the medical room door behind him.
Tony smirked back and looked down at Peter once again. He would do anything for the kid, fight as hard as he could to get back to him. Peter was the most important thing in his life, and he’d be damned if he didn’t put up a fight along the way.