Fighting And Helplessness

“You still good?” Peter felt the steady hand over his shoulder drop and he looked up into his Dad’s eyes, swallowing and bobbing his head.

“Y – yeah,” he said shakily as he nodded unconfidently. He stepped out of the elevator behind Tony and unconsciously slid closer to his side, so their shoulders brushed. The teen forced himself to look up from the floor, staring out into the room and passing over the collection of people he had grown up admiring from afar while his Dad fought alongside them. There was a beat of silence which Peter spent scanning the faces and willing his cheeks not to flush again.

Rhodey was reclined comfortably on a seat at the far end of the table, Steve was leaning against the counter next to Sam while Natasha was sitting with her feet resting on Clint’s chair, which was scooted a small way from the table. Tony didn’t go to move any further into the room, but Peter shifted his weight to his opposite foot and tapped his fingers together nervously. From where his shoulder was lightly pressed against his Dad’s, he could feel the man tensing and un-tensing his arm methodically.

Steve looked at Tony, a silent question dancing in his eyes, ‘everything okay?’ The mechanic pressed his lips together and nodded once, not daring to say anything aloud about Peter’s mock reactor for fear of dislodging any more memories. The soldier parted his mouth as if to speak but instead licked his lower lip and pressed them shut again in a hard line, looking down at the bench and picking at an imaginary piece of dirt. The silence stretched on for a moment longer than comfortable, itching towards awkward, and Tony knew the attention was mainly resting on Peter.

“What’s the deal, we eating or just standing here?” He broke the silence and tried his best not to twist around and wrap Peter against his chest protectively. Steve blanched but recovered quickly, rapping his knuckles evenly on the counter.

“Yeah, I made chilli but there’s also leftover soup in the fridge if you prefer…” he hesitated a moment, feeling incredibly out of his depth leading the conversation. “Uh, Peter, you okay eating normally?” Before the boy could respond, Tony spoke up.

“Yeah, he can eat solids, they took him off the I.V not too long ago.” Peter rolled his eyes and moved in-line with his Dad, trying to shake away his nerves.

“I’m right here, I can talk,” he tried a small smile and turned to face the person who actually asked him. “Chilli sounds great Mister, uh, America… s – sir Captain?” He mentally kicked himself when he began to feel warmth in his face and rubbed at his nose with a hand still swaddled in the sleeve of his hoodie. He was oblivious to the quickly concealed smiles that flashed across the room.

“Steve,” he looked up from the floor, “Steve is perfectly fine, Peter.” He willed the heat away from his face, but he had chosen to be here, he wanted to meet these people as himself.

“Okay, I’m not waiting anymore, chuck me a bowl, Cap.” Clint gave Natasha’s feet a friendly shove and she caught them before they dropped to the floor, crossing and tucking them underneath her seat in a fluid motion. The archer walked across to where Steve was opening the lid to a pot, he took a bowl from beside Sam and heaped several spoonful’s into it. “Looks good,” he said, throwing a spoon to Natasha and nudging his head to call her up.

“You hungry?” His Dad tapped the zipper on his hoodie and looked at him sceptically when he shrugged.

“I guess, yeah?” He had eventually managed to work his portions up to a normal size, but normal for someone without an increased metabolism.

“Wanna head up then?” He nodded and trailed closely behind his Dad, hardly looking up for long enough to make eye contact with anyone. At one point his gaze met Rhodey’s and the man shot him a hidden thumbs-up and smiled warmly, Peter’s shoulders relaxed slightly. His portion was smaller than his Dad’s but larger than any other meal he had eaten since he got back home. At the table Natasha and Clint were sitting along the right side, Sam and Steve on the opposite and Rhodey at the end with a spare seat next to him, sitting across from Peter and Tony. For a while, there was quiet while everybody ate, Peter noticed some exchanged glances between the team and once he saw his Dad and Steve make prolonged eye contact that looked as if they were having a silent conversation.

“This is horrendous, someone start asking me questions or I’m gonna fall asleep in my bowl.” He tensed when his Dad spoke suddenly, and the man must have noticed because under the table he positioned his leg, so it was leant against the side of Peter’s knee. Steve sighed and rested his head on his arm.

“Peter are you comfortable with everyone getting to know you a little better?”

“Yeah, of course.” He paused, nervous that he was supposed to lead the conversation and not knowing how. “Do you, um, what did you want to ask?” He twisted a spoon in his fingers and his knee bounced lightly under the table.

“You’re Tony’s biological kid?” Sam leant back in his chair, leaving his bowl on the table next to Steve.

“Yes.” Peter vaguely wondered if his Dad talked to everyone about asking direct questions.

“So, you were the one in the spandex with the white stuff at the airport then?” Clint had the decency to swallow his mouthful before speaking, and Tony was silently grateful.

“I was, yeah. The stuff was – is, web fluid that helps me swing and things.” He bit the inside of his cheek before talking again, “about that…” everyone looked up from their chilli curiously and from beside him, Peter felt his Dad tensing again. “Just, uh, sorry about kicking you in the face Mis – um, Steve, and for sticking you to the floor.” He looked to Sam apologetically, “I changed my settings, so all the webs should have dissolved in under half an hour, but yeah, still… sorry.” There was a pause and for a moment the teen thought he had made the wrong choice talking about Germany, but then Steve was grinning, Sam huffed a laugh and Tony was relaxing.

“No need to apologise kid, I was the one who fought a sixteen-year-old.”

“I swung first, and I was fifteen, but it doesn’t matter, I was perfectly capable of defending myself.” Sam was shaking his head and smiling, Steve winced when Peter said he was fifteen, but there was still an expression of humour on his face.

“Just to let you guys know, I didn’t want him involved, but he’s almost as stubborn as me, so it didn’t work out.” Tony spoke through his own grin and looked across at Peter fondly, an approving and encouraging glint in his gaze.

“Honestly Tony, that doesn’t surprise me in the slightest,” Natasha’s gaze was even, despite the smirk on her lips and the somehow kind assessment she seemed to be making of Peter. “You two know each other?” She continued, pointing her spoon non-threateningly between Rhodey and Peter in a question which she probably already knew the answer to.

“I know the kiddo a little more than you guys, but I didn’t know he was practically my Nephew.” Rhodey was smiling too and it was a kind one, always flicking back to Peter as if feeling out how comfortable he was with the direction of the conversation.

“He knows me as an Intern, that’s it, we met a few times, but I never stuck around for long.” He could feel himself relaxing more as the conversation loosened up and so too did everyone’s reluctance to speaking.

“I saw you in the lab once, you brought cereal and Tony said the same thing about an internship.” Steve was trying to remember that afternoon, and he could vaguely picture himself ignoring the silent exchange between the two, not to mention how similar he noted their habits were.

“I didn’t call Pete to let him know you were in the lab that day, so he just came down like normal and I had to eat his food to pull it off.” Tony smirked at Peter knowingly and the teen responded with an eye-roll.

“Yeah I’m pretty sure I used the last of the box, so you should be grateful,” he shot back easily.

“So, what did you do when Tony had a meeting with us or we were hanging around this place?” Sam asked curiously.

“Went out, patrolled, stayed in my room or the lab and sometimes just got work done in one of the spare conference rooms.” Peter didn’t bother bringing up the fact that Clint had seen him from the vents above the conference rooms.

“Yeah, speaking of patrol kid, how’d you get the Spidey powers in the first place?”

“Fucking Oscorp…” Tony muttered indignantly, still bitter over the entire ordeal. Steve looked like he wanted to scold him for language in front of a kid, but he bit his tongue and figured Peter was very accustomed to the choice of words.

“Yeah, I went on a tour of Oscorp and pretty much just got lost and wound up in a weird area of the building where they must have been testing on Spiders because when one of them bit me it felt… strange. That night I was, I guess feeling sick?” He looked to his Dad who puffed and looked up to the ceiling, trying to forget how easily he had just let the teen have an early night instead of checking him out more. “Anyway, early hours of the next morning I got really sick and it must’ve fixed itself because when I woke up I was sticking to stuff and didn’t need my glasses or anything.”

“That’s… that’s super cool, way more awesome than any of us.” Clint looked genuinely exited and Peter was going to try to explain how shitty the change had felt, but he thought about how horrible some people had gotten their abilities. His own Dad had been held hostage for three months with shrapnel stuck inside him, so that was out of the question. “How old were you?”

“Fifteen,” he answered honestly, trying not to think of how often his Dad had murmured ‘you’re so young,’ when he came home bruised and limping.

“You good Tones?” Peter looked over to his Dad when he heard the tinge of concern in Rhodey’s voice, to his surprise he was poking at his chilli and shaking his head slowly.

“Dad?” For the others around the table it was extremely convoluted to hear someone calling their teammate, whom they had known for years at this point, Dad.

“I’m fine, just… it’s hard sometimes – to think about how much stuff has happened to you, you’re still so young.” Peter resisted the urge to roll his eyes for the third time and instead chose to rest a hand on Tony’s arm and smile privately to him, in hopes of easing the guilt that no doubt clawed at his heart.

“It’s fine, I can handle things, m’ just glad you’re here to help. Don’t blame yourself.” The man visibly calmed, the team watched as his shoulders relaxed, and he reached out to pat Peter’s hand, which still rested on his arm, and returned his smile gratefully.

“I know buddy, I know.” The teen smiled wider and the adoration in Tony’s eyes was glaringly clear to everyone sat at the table. They all knew that the man had always had issues surrounding physical contact, Rhodey had known him for the longest and the most contact he’d ever had was a hug right after Afghanistan. Touching and Tony didn’t mix, and nobody questioned him about it, most of them were finicky when it came to letting people in their personal space, mostly due to how they were all mostly taught to always be on guard. So, you couldn’t blame any of them when they were shocked by how well their teammate was responding to the physical contact with his son, how the tension seemed to melt away from both of the Starks when they touched or how Tony knew to reach out for the boy when things got to be too much.

“Tony?” Steve sounded unsure of himself but tried to unwind his thoughts when the parent turned toward him with an eyebrow raised.

“What’s up Capsicle?”

“Can I ask, honestly, were you planning on telling us, or did you ever think about us meeting Peter?” There were nods of agreement and everyone turned to face Tony with inquiry plastered across their faces. The Father shifted in his seat and let his hand drop from Peter’s arm and fall to the table quietly.

“I think…” he paused and pondered for a moment, eyes flicking up to the ceiling in thought. “I was firstly waiting until he had at least finished high-school, then I would’ve had to make sure he actually wanted to… and I would’ve maybe said something sooner because of the Spider stuff, but then the whole thing – with the Accords I guess, they, uh… made me more hesitant to say anything. Especially because I didn’t know where you all were and the fact that you met Spider-Man, despite me not wanting that,” he turned and shot Peter an exaggerated frown before continuing, “prior to actually meeting Peter… Peter Stark.”

“That’s… yeah th – that’s fair.” There was silence once more and everyone seemed to focus more on their chilli then forcing the conversation to continue. “I’ll clear up,” Steve said suddenly.

“If it means anything, I would have – I mean, I did want to meet you as me, it was, uh, it would’ve been… I think I would have loved to meet you under b – better circumstances.” Tony draped an arm over Peter’s shoulder and leaned over to press a kiss against his temple. The boy didn’t make eye contact with anyone, but his eye twitched when Steve stood up and his Dad’s fingers tightened protectively in response.

“Thanks kid, I would’ve liked that too, we all would have.” Steve went around the table the long way to collect plates, letting Tony stack his own and Peter’s. “You make my teammate happy, you’re a good kid,” he added plainly, as if making Tony happy automatically made Peter a good person, but the teen supposed that was a fair judgement considering his Dad was the most important person in his life and had been for sixteen years.

“Tired?” He shook his head, hoping his Dad wouldn’t drag him back down to the Med Bay.

“I’m fine, we can stay longer, I – I want to.” Tony eyed him cautiously, trying to gauge his pain levels, searching for anything that hinted he was uncomfortable before deciding against forcing him back to bed and nodding in agreeance. The sound of chairs being scooted back from the table filled the room and Peter stood awkwardly beside his Dad while Steve rinsed the dishes and Rhodey put the leftovers in the fridge. “Thanks for the chilli, it was good,” he said quietly, knocking the top of his hands against the underside of the bench slowly, giving himself something to do so he wasn’t standing still.

“No problem, you cook much Peter?” For a moment, the thought of Captain America asking him such a domestic question about himself felt surreal, at least, before he remembered that Iron Man was his Dad and he webbed criminals on the side.

“A little, normally just helping out with dinner or making breakfast.” The truth was, he got better at cooking after Afghanistan and the Accords, because he hated to see his Dad sat at the table, too busy wallowing in haunted, remorseful memories to find the strength to get up and consume anything other than cold coffee. Obviously, he didn’t say that aloud, or think about it more than he had to.

“Cap’s teaching himself, trying to learn how to do things other than boil the crap out of stuff and make do with rations,” Clint patted the soldier on the shoulder and grinned. “I’m surprised he’s been able to use a proper oven,” Steve gave a lopsided grin and shook his head disapprovingly, throwing a dish cloth over his shoulder. “Mm, yummy Cap war food,” he said teasingly.

“It’s not that hard of a concept to grasp. Don’t mix cheese and seafood, don’t –” Steve began.

“Oh god, spare us, stop encouraging him Clint,” Natasha snatched the dish cloth from his back and balled it up before aiming at the archer, who ducked expertly. Steve caught it and returned to drying dishes, scowling with no real heat at the two. Rhodey shut the fridge and circled the bench, touching Tony gently on the shoulder.

“Alright I gotta head, take it easy Pete, text me if you need Tones.” The two nodded, Peter managed a small wave. He assumed the man was going to physical therapy.

“I’m getting you some water, one second.” Tony slipped through between Sam and Steve, filling a glass from the fridge. “What’s everyone doing after this?”

“Clint and Sam are helping me,” Natasha supplied. Tony quirked an eyebrow at her in question, “important mission,” she said offhandedly while glaring at him with something unsaid. He seemed to understand and nodded, snapping his mouth shut while a scowl crossed his face.

“Is this what I helped you with last night Nat?” Steve said slowly, treading lightly for some apparent reason. She nodded, keeping the same focus of a silent conversation.

“When am I getting a chance to deal with that piece of… the mission. When am I coming?” Peter was surprised to see a look in his Father’s eyes that he rarely got to, it was dark, consuming, alluding to something much more wrathful then what he conveyed. The question was practically spat, he was desperate for something and it made Peter shiver.

“Dad?” His voice wavered and he internally winced when the pitch came out high and discordant. Everyone turned to look at him and Steve muttered to Natasha that the matter should be spoken about later while she led Clint and Sam to the elevator, her shoes clicking against the floor commandingly. Tony rounded the counter and put the glass of water in front of Peter, stepping close to his side after he did so. The teen looked up at the aberrant look in his eyes before shaking one of his hands out from inside the hoodie’s sleeve and tugging a finger into his Dads belt loop, seeking comfort. “What was th –”

“Doesn’t matter, it isn’t important.” He pulled Peter into his chest and pressed a kiss to the crown of his head carefully. “You’re what’s important to me right now,” he whispered into the curls softly, almost reminding himself of the fact as well as Peter.

“I’m heading to the lab, so I can sort some of the things we spoke about and put them on a separate disk.” Tony might have mouthed something back to Steve but if he did it wasn’t important enough to the teen to dislodge the embrace. After a few minutes his Dad pulled away just enough to look down at him and smile reassuringly.

“I’m guessing you don’t want to go back to the Med Bay just yet?” He shook his head decisively and peeled away from his Dad, reaching for the water. “What do you feel like doing then, anything in particular?” After a few sips and a moment to think, he shook his head again and shrugged indifferently. “You wanna just curl up and watch something with me?”

“Yeah, can we get some blankets? m’ cold again,” he exemplified by lifting his hands under his chin and tucking them there.

“Yeah, you need anything else to eat or is there any more pain?” Despite the headache that was growing slightly, Peter shook his head and followed his Dad to the lounge. “The team loved you kid, you’re too precious for them,” Tony said over his shoulder while he collected various throws and blankets.

“Mm, you think?” He replied offhandedly, picking up a cushion from a smaller couch and throwing it onto the usual one him and his Dad normally watched movies on.

“Definitely – Natasha doesn’t normally talk, just… observes coldly. Sam’s similar but I think you got him and Cap with the unneeded sorry’s,” he plopped himself down and adjusted a cushion behind him. “You gotta stop with those too, you hardly ever have anything to actually apologise for.” Reclining and stretching his legs out, he patted the space beside him, “hey, you alright?”

Peter stood stiffly, one hand gripping his opposite elbow and his feet constantly shuffling from side to side. He bit his lip and looked at the floor unsurely, avoiding eye contact just like he had at the table. “Pete, what’s up?” He didn’t need to look up to picture the concern on his Dad’s face, it was all projected in the tone of his voice.

“I just… earlier, the ‘mission,’ you were – you were talking about Ryan. Weren’t you?” His Dad looked at his hands and fiddled with them momentarily, almost guiltily. “I get it, I mean I get why you didn’t want to talk about it… but you don’t have to – you shouldn’t have to hide stuff and walk on eggshells around me. I – I’m getting better with talking about things. I don’t want to make you… I – I don’t know, distant?”

“Hey, come here kiddo,” and that was pretty much all the indication Peter needed before he was burying himself in his Dad’s hold and nuzzling his face into his neck. “I’m never going to be distant, okay, so that’s easy. I’m not ‘walking on eggshells’ around you, I’m trying to be careful what I say, yeah, but I’m not pitying you. I won’t hide things if you don’t want me to, but I will wait to talk about them until I feel like you’re ready.” He reached around and rubbed the nape of Peter’s neck, wrapping his opposite arm around his waist and pulling him further onto the couch so he wasn’t in danger of slipping off the edge. “What we were discussing before doesn’t relate to you specifically, it has to do with the legality issues of running an… illegal operation involving people with abilities, not to mention hijacking an abandoned science facility. Yes, it does involve… people who participated in – in the, fuck Peter, I don’t – the guys who –”

“Dad, it’s okay, we – we don’t have to talk about it.” Peter locked his arms around Tony’s neck and pressed his face closer, squeezing softly in assurance.

“Thanks baby, I just want you to be able to focus on getting better and not have to worry about anything else.” He felt a smile against his neck in response, “what?”

“Nothing, it’s just – well, I mean I still have school to worry about.” He frowned and looked down at his watch.

“Pete, you’re well into break now, and I called the office for the days you miss –”

“It’s already break?” He tilted his head and looked up from the side of his eye inquisitively, smiling more when his Dad nodded once. “Oh, okay, that’s good then.” He snuggled closer and contained a yawn as his head slid down from the neck to the ribcage tiredly.

“Peter?” The boy turned his head up and made a soft noise as if to ask ‘mm, what?’ “You nap, I won’t tell Helen, we’ll head back later.” The precious smile he got in return was definitely worth the small amount of hesitance he had offering to stay in the lounge to sleep. “Love you kiddo,” he said quietly, pulling a blanket up and over Peter’s slowly slumping form.

“Love you too Dad,” he whispered straight back without pause, wiggling his shoulders and making a small noise of appreciation for the blanket. In all honestly, it didn’t take long for the boy to fall asleep, it also didn’t take long for Tony’s hand to find its way into his curls like it had so many times before. He noticed, achingly, that Peter’s face softened in sleep, the wariness and slightest hints of anxiety melted away and he looked younger, so much more innocent. Almost as if he hadn’t gone through the most traumatic three weeks of his entire life. Moments like this, with his son resting on his chest, reminded Tony of earlier in both their lives, when they weren’t plagued with memories of torture, surgery, wormholes and collapsed buildings.

----

‘Sir, I am very well aware of your lifestyle and I can appreciate the fact that you may be incredibly busy at this moment, but this matter is urgent.’ The voice on the other end of the phone was nasally and upset the headache Tony was currently nursing. He sighed, audibly, wanting to milk the ‘I am Tony Stark’ excuse for as long as he could without having to admit he was lying in bed, undressed and not working.

‘I’m going to need somewhat more information on what this matter is and why I’m being called by a hospital in Queens, New York, at –’ he glanced over and proceeded to tilt his alarm clock against the glow of the windows. He silently cursed Jarvis for peeling back the curtains at the ungodly hour of… ‘Eleven thirty on a Friday morning? I need to know at least that much before I drop everything and fly over there like you so request, miss…?’

‘Katherine Reys,’ the woman responded abruptly, ignoring the business man’s intrusive sighing. ‘The matter isn’t the type I would normally discuss over the phone, and you are being called by my hospital in Queens, New York, because I work here, and this is my job to call people like you and notify you of these particular type of situations.’ The false customer service ‘phone call voice’ she had used before was dropped when all she was met with was the blunt, unconcentrated annoyance of a severely hungover Tony Stark. The genius however, wasn’t backing down and was also not willing to roll out of bed for anything less than life or death.

‘Well if that’s all you’re willing to say then I will not be seeing you soon, thanks so much for the call, really truly a good use of my valuable time, goodb –’

‘A child was dropped off and an indication was left of you being the Father.’ Well out of the options of hanging up and hearing nothing about this ever again and the woman caving and telling him what he wanted to know, he certainly hadn’t expected whatever that was.

‘Uh, I’m – I’m sorry? What the fuck?’ He spluttered, sitting up swiftly and biting back the wave of nausea that bubbled up along with the movement.

‘I assume I should prepare for you arrival?’ The smarmy and self-pleased tone in the woman’s voice made Tony want to throw his phone, but he was busy having a mild existential crisis at the notion of him being the biological parent of a… another human being. ‘Sir am I correct in this assumption?’ It was a very clear set-up question, she wanted him to have to admit she was right, but he was taking the cocky way out while he could still find his personality.

‘Flight from Malibu to New York is six hours, I’ll procrastinate until your shift’s over dear.’ He sneered and hung up, immediately flopping back onto the mattress and groaning loudly as his head barely missed smacking the wall behind him. ‘Fuck, fuck, shit! What the hell am I doing?’ He proceeded to moan loudly until he reached the shower and let the spray wash away as much of the hangover as possible, before downing a glass of water and aspirin appropriately. He refused to call Obadiah, knowing exactly how he would react, skipped over Rhodey’s contact for fear of the intervention he always threatened actually surfacing. In reality, his friend probably knew how little an intervention would work and so never bothered. It would have to be Pepper, he hated that because he was getting an earful about responsibility and he knew it but pressed the number nonetheless. ‘Pep, I need you to come to New York with me, I royally screwed up. Reprimand me on the flight over, just meet me at the jet, please.’ He tacked on the please at the end or she wouldn’t have showed up, and the part of him that recognised how much of an unlikeable asshole he was tacked some self-hatred onto his guilt complex. Suffice to say, he was an absolute and total mess of a human right now and should definitely not be given the opportunity to even be in the same room as a child, let alone one that was his son. If his own Father was enough of an example of what a Stark was like, he should probably just quit casual hook-ups all together just to eradicate the possibility of bringing something so pure into the world. Because, inevitably, he would ruin it, be it with his alcoholism, lack of stability in general or the strange wall he instinctively puts up to distance himself from anyone he could ever possibly have a real relationship with.

‘Tony what did you do? If I need to burn another suit I swear to –’

‘No, Pep I didn’t – I just, fuck. I, uh, meet me at the jet, please, I’ll explain when I know myself. Better yet, you can just come with me and understand on your own, so you can yell later.’ He heard a sigh that was less dramatic than his own had been, but just as irritated.

‘Fine, only because I’m not in the mood to get you appointments I’ll eventually have to cancel anyway.’ The call snapped off before he could mutter a displeased thanks.

Twenty-two minutes later and he was pulling off his tinted glasses and sinking into the plush cushioning of his private jet with Pepper sat across from him, angrily stabbing a phone and looking to him incredulously. ‘I honestly cannot believe you Tony, four separate publishers I had to convince not to print those photos of you from last night. Seriously, how in the hell did you manage to get yourself home and in bed?’

‘Can we at least look on the bright side of things, I didn’t bring anyone back home with me this time.’ Pepper pressed her lips into a stern line and looked at him accusingly.

‘You did. Black hair, blue dress, out the front door by eight o’clock.’ He groaned and shook his head, not even bothering to sort through the blurry assortment of memories which comprised of about nine percent of his night. ‘Thankfully, she was just glad to have met you and didn’t cause any more trouble.’ He leant back and slid his glasses back on, tinting the inside of the jet so dark that everything was just a varied, black, blob of figure. ‘Where are we going?’

‘Hospital, Queens.’ He looked out the window and tried not to think about food, or anything solid for that matter, in fear of lunging for the nearest air sickness bag.

‘I’m not even going to ask this time,’ she bit back irately. The rest of the flight was passed in resigned silence, which he was heavily grateful for. Apart from the splitting headache, urge to puke his lungs out, and announcement of a possible child, his day was just overall shit so far, they were just the cherries on top. Now he was thinking about food and he needed to go to the bathroom and throw up. Fuck, abort mission his life was an utter mess.

Several hours later they were landing, and his headache was beginning to subside, which gave his mind more time to take control and start to whirl with anxieties and fears. If this was true, if he had a child, what was he supposed to do? He couldn’t leave it to the foster system, he didn’t think raising it would be a smart idea, given the sheer amount of stupidity and recklessness his life displayed. It felt like he broke anything he got close to, Obadiah was constantly running in his wake and wiping his publicity issues under the rug for the company’s sake, Pepper was just a forever state of exhausted with him, Rhodey was threatening to ban him from alcohol and Happy was paid to watch out for him, so he didn’t count. That was it, three people he was close to and all of them were sick of him, in what world was he ever fit to raise a child?

‘Where we headed Sir?’ He listed off the address of the hospital and tried not to focus on how much he wanted a drink to numb this whole situation for him. That was his deal, as soon as life cropped up with something even remotely hard to deal with, he drank, and his life was stressful so that explained why he was drunk half the time and hungover the rest of it.

‘Tony we’re here, get out of the car.’ He shook his head blearily and stared out the window, how long had they been idling here on the side of the road waiting for him to snap out of his head?

‘Yeah, okay let’s deal with this shit then.’ He slid out the door and closed it behind him, slipping the driver a tip and walking toward the front door of the hospital. ‘Fuck me,’ he said under his breath and pulled sunglasses over his eyes to hopefully disguise the fact that he was still miserably hungover. He strode to the front desk and ignored the bustle of nurses and doctors that shoved past each other down the hallway.

‘How can I help?’ A man behind a computer screen said, his fingers on the up and down arrows, obviously playing some game on his computer.

‘Looking for Katherine Reys or whoever works in her department if she’s not in.’ Thankfully, the man didn’t look too closely at him and Tony felt relieved that he wasn’t going to have to worry about press seeing him.

‘Level two, her office is the third door and has her name on it, I think her shift finishes later.’ He grit his teeth, not wanting to have to deal with the woman he spoke to on the phone, but guided Pepper to the elevator regardless. He didn’t bother saying anything on their way up, but Pepper did when she realised where they were going.

‘This is the section that deals with children and babies, why are we here, what the hell did you do?’ He shrugged and walked down the hall, wrapping his knuckles on the door which hung Katherine’s name plate.

‘I’m glad you made it, please come in, take a seat.’ She seemed to have picked up her customer service persona back up because she smiled warily and gestured to two seats in her office. Once he was seated, still wearing his glasses despite the minimal lighting indoors, she looked to him and spoke. ‘Do you happen to remember one Mary Fitzpatrick, you would have known her over nine month ago?’ He bit the side of his cheek and shook his head rather guiltily while Pepper rolled her eyes from beside him. ‘I have a picture if that would help,’ she opened her drawer and pulled out a manila folder, holding up a newspaper clipping of a woman he did in fact recognise.

‘Yeah I do actually, she was at an event I had to attend, it got late, there were drinks, sue me.’ Pepper huffed, and Katherine pursed her lips.

‘Have you been in contact with her since then?’ He shook his head and bit back the multiple sarcastic remarks that were laced at the tip of his tongue. ‘We have security footage from two days ago of her dropping off a child at this hospital with a note and leaving again.’ He swallowed, leaning forward in his seat, interested. ‘The note was addressed to us, explaining her situation and why she was unable to care for a child, the page also listed that she suspected you were the Father.’ Pepper gaped, and he refused to look directly at her, just stayed facing forward and trying not to dry heave. ‘The only reason we were able to figure out who she was is because of the security footage, we are going to need to take a DNA test to determine whether or not her claim is true.’

‘Do you know how many claims we get like this? I assure you Tony is not liable for –’ Pepper started in her business voice, but he cut her off abruptly.

‘I’ll take the test. I want it rushed, not matter the cost I need it as soon as possible.’ Katherine nodded and gave him a paper to take to another floor for the test, which he did. To be fair, it only took them two days to call him back to come in again. Pepper came with him, his legal team weren’t far in preparation for the worst, she had said on the drive there. He dutifully ignored her and chose to focus on wiping his hands on his pant legs, fiddling with his glasses and thrumming his fingers against the seat.

‘Do you want the results now, or privately?’ Katherine looked to Pepper and Tony waved the notion aside, he needed Pepper here, so he wouldn’t snap. ‘You are the Father, Mary was correct. We have things in place for situations like this, we have managed to find a number to contact the Mother so with her permission the child can be registered into the foster syst –’

‘I want to read the note before you do anything else.’ The woman dug around in the file and pulled out a page. She left the room to let him read it, collecting something from the printer with the promise to be back shortly. The note was printed, formal and didn’t say much about him, just that he was the most likely Father. Apparently, Mary was unable to deal with a child because of her job, her work was too important, and it was no environment for a child to grow up in. Nowhere in the letter did she say what she wanted or where the kid should go but she had given a name. Peter, the child was a boy named Peter. Katherine walked back into the office when he folded the letter back up and laid it on her desk.

‘We looked through our records and she had the baby here over four months ago, she dropped him here four days ago.’

‘Why did it take this long for you to contact me, where was the kid kept for four days?’

‘It took us awhile to get the security footage and because no names were left, we needed to be sure this wasn’t a false claim. He was cared for by staff and stayed at the hospital, we have sufficient resources for children that are left here.’ He scowled and tried to not be surprised by how angered he was by the idea of this child being left for the hospital staff. ‘I have documents for you to sign that allow us to contact Mary and sort the child into the system.’

‘You aren’t calling Mary, she said herself that work was too important right now and I remember from the party she was researching something very vital, so leave her out of it and I’ll have my legal team sort everything out.’ Katherine looked up at the ceiling exasperatedly.

‘You’re telling me that you will take on the responsibility of getting the child into the system then?’ Pepper whispered his name and he ignored her.

‘I want to see him, then I’ll decide what I want, thanks.’ He glared at the table and tried not to think about how fucked up this entire thing was. He did remember Mary, she was one of his many hook-ups whose name he remembered, she was smart, very much so, and that had intrigued him that night. They talked for hours about her research before he invited her back to where he had been staying, he didn’t remember the night, but she was gone the next morning.

‘I can organise that,’ Katherine said, typing something into a computer before leading him and Pepper out of the room and down the hall. ‘His name is Peter, he’s quite responsive for his age so don’t be surprised by that.’ She slid a key card into a door and green flashed before they were buzzed into a hallway with windows on one side and doors on the other. ‘That’s where children stay, he’s the only one we have at the moment.’ There were rows of various sized cots that Tony could see through the window and true to Katherine’s word, all but one of them were unoccupied. There was a mound of blankets which he didn’t get to see for long before she was opening the door for him and he hesitantly stepped in.

On the far side was the bed holding the kid, and he made a very slow beeline for it, clenching and unclenching his fists periodically and wishing he wasn’t here. The pile of blankets were cheap, and his head screamed to throw money at the problem and ignore it, but this was different, he was responsible for this child. At the foot of the crib he leaned forward and looked in as if something might burn him, tentatively, anxiously. A tiny hand was clutching a corner of one of the blankets and he saw a tuft of curly, brown hair poking out. He wasn’t typically fond of avoiding children, but he didn’t coo over them like most people did, Rhodey always said when a kid asked for an autograph he would soften and drop the billionaire persona, but he never thought about it. He reached into the cot and flipped one edge of the blanket down carefully and was met with the sleeping face of a baby.

‘Peter,’ he breathed quietly, testing out the name for no good reason. ‘So, you’ve been here by yourself for four days, huh?’ He very slowly tucked a finger into the open palm of the child’s hand and didn’t flinch when the tiny hand closed around it like a Venus flytrap. A warm smile curled at the edge of his lips and he bottled it up, denying any of the strange feeling that crept through his chest when the hot little fingers pinched his own. ‘Hi,’ he murmured quietly. The blankets shuffled, and he realised the baby was kicking one leg out weakly and scrunching his face up cutely. No, it wasn’t cute it just was, a fact, not cute. He untucked the blankets and marvelled at how small the child really was, so fragile looking, so holdable. ‘You’re – you look tiny kid.’ He said, rubbing a thumb over the backside of the hand that clutched his finger. He stilled when the child made a small noise from the back of its throat and squeezed his finger tighter before fluttering his lids.

Tony was met with the largest, most innocent, hazel doe eyes he had ever seen. They were so painfully, obviously his own eyes that he blanked, staring back at the baby and waiting for something to happen. The child, Peter, yawned and reached out his opposite arm, clinging to the cuff of Tony’s suit and making his cufflinks jingle together.

‘Ah,’ he said, breaking the silence and staring right back up at Tony happily. He kicked a leg out again and opened his mouth to reveal pink gums before shutting it again and smiling. ‘Ah.’ The child cried again, smiling wider.

‘Hey, yeah, hi there,’ he smiled back and reached his other arm into the cot to run a gentle finger over the kid’s soft cheek calmingly. ‘You’re Peter… God, I made you,’ he said to himself, still not really grasping the concept of how he had a hand in creating something so small and soft. The baby practically mewled and rolled on his side into the careful touch. Tony felt his heart wrench as he remembered that the kid had basically been left alone for four days. ‘I’m not gonna leave till you got someone kiddo,’ he promised, continuing to stroke over Peter’s cheek. The doe eyes blinked, and he took note of the surprisingly dark lashes that lined them, so contrasting to the rest of his features that were all soft and plain. Pink gums, rosy lips and cheeks, hazel eyes and the lashes that were shockingly like his own. Peter was on his side now and reaching out with one grabby hand, trying to latch onto every part of Tony. ‘You wanna be held, hm?’

‘Ah!’ The baby answered, and he let the bottled smile creep across his face for real. Tony carefully rested his hands around the child’s body and lifted him up slowly. He tucked the small form against his shoulder and tilted his head so fluffy locks leant against his neck. Peter giggled and tapped his hands onto Tony’s pulse point before reaching out and laying an open-palm over his stubble curiously. ‘Bah,’ he said quietly, almost as if he knew what a beard was.

‘Yeah,’ Tony whispered back, taking in as much of the child at close proximity, ‘my god, you look like me already…’ He rested his lips on Peter’s head, definitely not kissing him, or at least not kissing him obviously. ‘I can’t give you to strangers, can I?’ Doubt prickled inside him, and the idea of signing a few pages and leaving Peter in the system suddenly seemed like something Howard would have done.

‘Nuh.’ He blinked and looked down at Peter.

‘Did you say no? You said no to my question?’ When did babies talk again, was he getting an answer to the question he had been asking himself since the test came back, from a baby?

‘S’ran – gah,nuh,’ Peter managed before he was tugging at Tony’s collar and using it to pull his face into the crook of his neck.

‘No stranger? Oh god, you cold? Is that why you’re burrowing into me?’ He didn’t get an answer, just the sensation of delicate, warm skin pressed into his neck. ‘No, no you’re right Peter,’ he could feel when the hazel eyes were blinking, because the lashes brushed against his skin. ‘I can’t leave you alone, how could I?’ This was not smart, this was bordering on selfish. He wanted this kid because it was like a part of him, and maybe he was being selfish by not wanting the baby to enter the foster system. Perhaps he was denying the kid a normal life, but he would be damned if he was walking away from this hospital and leaving the child in a cot surrounded by cheap blankets and being taken care of by underpaid staff with nasally voices. ‘You’re soft,’ he breathed, nuzzling his cheek against the somehow already thick mass of brunette hair.

‘Ah,’ Peter reached up and poked Tony’s cheeks. The mechanic pulled back and held the child carefully in front of his face.

‘What’s wrong? You wanna stay here? You wanna come home with me?’ Large, wide eyes blinked back at him. Tony thought they were filled with sourly misplaced trust, but he couldn’t bring himself to put the kid back in the cot and walk away.

‘Meh, hoh.’ It could have been, and it most likely was, just Tony’s twisted head turning the crafted syllables into words he secretly wanted to hear, but it sounded like Peter said ‘Me, home.’ It was enough for him, and he ran with it, curling the child back up against his neck and soaking in the feeling of tiny fingers pulling at his shirt collar. ‘Goh hoh,’ he didn’t have a hangover anymore, he wasn’t dreading Pepper’s mouthful, he didn’t care about the stupidly nasally voice of Katherine, he was perfectly content to hold this child. His child.

‘Tony?’ He heard a tap on the glass and he slowly turned around and met eyes with Pepper. Katherine stood outside the window beside her, looking between him and Peter with unreadable expressions. Pepper lifted her phone and looked ready to ask about foster care, but she paused, carefully examined Tony’s face and lowered her hand. ‘You – are you really doing this?’ He nodded once and looked down at the baby resting on him, wanting to sink into the floor and bask in the warmth that bubbled inside him and filled an empty void he had stuffed with alcohol and meaningless sex for years. ‘I’m calling the legal team and getting them to keep this under wraps and bring adoption papers I guess…’

‘We have those here, and also the necessary forms to fill out for foster care, if you chose that.’ Katherine’s voice implied she thought he should do just that, put the kid down and walk out now.

‘Yeah Pepper, it – he’s me, Peter’s not staying here, not alone anymore.’ Even with the doubt inside him, the warm feeling said that giving his child a name, a face, a voice, meant there was no way in hell, in any universe, he was letting him slip away into the depths of foster care and orphanages. ‘Can you even talk kid, say a name?’ He craned his head to look at the doe eyes. ‘Tony, Peter, Stark, Dad, baby, anything?’

‘Peter,’ the child said confidently, clearly well associated with his own name. ‘Tuh – toh nay,’ his nose crinkled and scrunched in concentration and the warm feeling spread so intensely that his legs felt weak for a moment.

‘Tony,’ he repeated.

‘Toh – ne. Toh ney,’ Peter smiled more and reached out to poke Tony’s earlobe and giggle again.

‘Pep, I need to – I’m biologically his Dad, I gotta.’ He looked to her and felt reassured when she was on the phone to somebody, shooting him a nod but watching Peter with one eye. When she hung up she opened the door and poked her head in to talk.

‘Legal team is on their way, you sure you want to do this Tony?’

‘Toh – ny.’ Pepper looked down to Peter, surprised, and took in his golden-brown eyes, fluffed hair and dark lashes.

‘He looks like you… he said your name, he’s barely five months yet.’ It seemed to click for her then, why Tony was able to lock in the need to protect the child, why he was softening instead of reinforcing his walls. ‘He’s adorable…’ she took a step into the room before her phone buzzed and she jumped slightly. ‘I need to take this, it’s legal,’ she let the door close quietly behind her and Tony smiled down at Peter.

‘Yeah, Tony, there you go.’ He pressed his lips down to the top of Peter’s head again and hid his fond smile. Peter made a happy noise and curled his small arms as far around Tony’s neck as they would reach, beginning to chew on the collar of his shirt. Although he could feel the dampness of it, he couldn’t peel the child away from him, instead pulling him closer and rubbing his tiny back with one supportive hand.

‘We need to sort out some paperwork now, uh Katherine, can Peter – can Tony just keep holding him?’ He looked up at the door and caught Katherine’s judgemental and sceptical expression.

‘It’s a process, he should get more sleep.’ She scratched a nail and tapped the key card in her hands as if bored.

‘I’m not leaving him in here by himself, he can come with me or I’ll stay in here with him. Four days is a long enough time to be alone,’ he said harshly, snaking a hand up and into Peter’s curls, rubbing small circles. He felt the small hands gripping tighter and heard the small contented puff of air the child breathed out at the movement.

‘Fine, you can bring him and wait in my office, but know that he was not left by himself for four days, he was fed and supervised properly.’ He scoffed but carried Peter to the door, keeping him pressed securely against his neck and chest. ‘I hope you fully grasp the responsibility of raising a child and the necessity of having their best interests at heart.’ She looked at him coldly, and he knew she wanted nothing more than to say outright he was going to ruin Peter.

‘I’m aware, this is my son, he is my responsibility.’ Pepper looked at him from where she was walking ahead to the office, behind Katherine.

‘You’re adopting a child Tony. You need to be certain, and you need to be prepared to make a lot of important choices really soon.’ Unlike what he had expected, Pepper wasn’t discouraging him, she was making sure that he was conscious of exactly what he was deciding to do.

‘I’ll rephrase, I am certain that I want to raise my son, Peter. I will sign anything but he’s living with me, he deserves a home, a Dad.’ Peter squirmed from his neck and twisted in his arms, Tony slowed immediately and let the boy readjust himself before he kept moving. He twisted so he was facing up in Tony’s arms and gazed at him with wide eyes. He reached his arms high and wiggled his fingers.

‘Dah,’ he squealed and continued waving his arms up towards the mechanic’s face and neck.

‘What’s the matter?’ He felt slight fear squeezing his throat, he snapped his head up and worriedly asked, ‘has he been fed today?’ Katherine turned to face him at her door and before pushing it open, glared offendedly.

‘Of course he was fed, just because he’s the only child that needs to be cared for right now doesn’t mean we don’t have employees whose sole job is to take care of the kids waiting for child services to assign them a home.’ He quite honestly could have snarled at that if he didn’t think it would have startled the baby he held.

‘So, you’re meaning to tell me that Peter was going to sit in that cot and wait until a foster family decided they wanted him?’ He looked down at the child in his arms and gave him a finger which was soon wrapped in an eager hand that pulled it down and held it against his cheek. ‘Oh okay, I get what you want kid,’ he lightly ran his finger up and down the side of his face like he had earlier and smiled when Peter closed his eyes against the sensation and made another noise of content. When he was certain the child had settled again, he looked back up to Katherine and glowered at her.

‘He was fed, changed, bathed and supervised when he needed to be, if you hadn’t shown up he would have been picked up by child services in a few more days and found a sufficient home.’ She walked into the room and gestured to the two seats, ‘I’m assuming we’re waiting for your legal team?’ Pepper nodded quickly.

‘Unless there are things I can sign now to move this along, yes.’ He caught Pepper watching Peter curl up against his finger and may have seen a hint of a smile on her face before it was wiped by the woman’s question.

‘No, Tony, we’re waiting for legal.’ She gave him a firm look and he relented.

‘Fine, they’re based in New York anyway,’ Peter was copying his movements and running his small fingers up and down Tony’s wrist happily. He shook his hand slowly and jet his cufflinks jingle together, prompting Peter to open his hazel eyes and blink curiously up at them.

‘Ah,’ he reached up for them and batted one against the other, blinking once again when they clinked above him. He tugged Tony’s arm downwards and slid a hand inside his sleeve, rattling the metal cufflinks meticulously and staring at them in wonder.

‘Right well I’m going to sort out some things with his file and I assume you want Mary’s name kept off all the official documents?’ He nodded and didn’t bother to look up from where Peter was playing with his shirt and holding his wrist like his life depended on it. ‘You can stay in here then, I’ll be back shortly.’ He didn’t acknowledge her as she left but he did look to Pepper who was messaging someone on her phone.

‘I’m dealing with the legal team, you’re going to have to make your first choice now then. Is he being kept away from the press, or are you going to leave it be?’ Without missing a single beat, he answered.

‘I’m not telling anyone about him, he’s not going to be shoved into the spotlight like I was.’ From the serious tone Pepper had used before he expected the first decision he had to make was going to be difficult, but that was a no-brainer. Howard hadn’t given Tony a choice as a child, he didn’t get to live normally, he was trailed by flashing camera’s and nosey journalists tugging at his arm to answer questions. His whole life had been picked apart by vultures and he never knew anything else, when Peter was older he would be capable of deciding whether he wanted people to know he was related to Tony Stark, but for now he seemed content clinging onto his Father and playing with cufflinks. ‘Just you for now, we can keep it that way for as long as possible and then I’ll figure out who I trust enough with the information.’ Pepper nodded and typed something into her phone.

‘Will he stay in Malibu with you?’

‘I don’t see why not, I’ll have to order things for him and get a cot, food, clothing and other necessities, but there isn’t anywhere else he can logically be.’

‘This is a long-term thing, once you sign those papers he’s legally your responsibility, for at least eighteen years Tony, it’s a big deal.’ He nodded, shifting Peter so his head rested in the crook of his elbow and legs reclined in his lap.

‘I know Pepper, trust me, I’m committed to this now. This kid is – he’s going to change everything.’ She looked at him unsurely, ‘look, I know I’ve been… not the best to deal with for awhile now, but I’m willing to put everything I have into this, Peter is my son. You get how much I try not to act like Howard?’ She nodded, ‘well this is just the real thing then, I’m starting with the drinking, okay I swear, I’m stopping with the parties.’ It was an unconvincing promise, but he was intending on keeping it, because the idea of being distant and uncaring for the precious thing cradled in his lap right now made his heart clench painfully. ‘This is… a big ask, for you to keep this under wraps, but it’s going to help with other stuff too, I’ll have more time in the labs, I won’t keep going out at night and you aren’t going to keep having to show random women the door in the morning.’

‘You don’t need to convince me Tony, I know you’re not going to be a terrible parent, I’m just making sure you know how permanent this is.’

‘I know, I understand Pep, I promise.’ Her phone rang, and she nodded and flicked a hand at the door mouthing ‘legal team’s here,’ at him dramatically. Peter crooned softly from his lap and tugged at his finger, pulling it towards his head. ‘What’s up?’ He asked, letting the boy guide his hand around loosely while he whined high in his throat.

‘Toh,’ he mewed and continued to pull his hand relentlessly. ‘Ney,’ he finished, the genius found his hand being placed on Peter’s hair and then tapped encouragingly before little fingers wrapped around his wrist again.

‘Okay,’ he sighed gladly and massaged small circles into the child’s scalp while Peter’s eyes fluttered shut. The door opened, and he turned to greet the legal team but instead saw Katherine holding the file which was now considerably more stuffed. ‘How long does this take exactly?’

‘A few hours, but we still require a home inspection, so we put the documents away on file after that.’ She walked past him and Pepper, typing more on her computer and organising papers from the folder neatly until the legal team arrived. Thankfully, because they did their job, Tony didn’t have to sit through hours of discussion, all he needed to do was sign several documents and keep Peter entertained, which was easy considering how calm he was with the physical contact he provided. ‘One more, just here,’ Katherine tapped a blank spot on the page with her acrylic nails. ‘It’s to say you consent to someone coming and checking your place of residence and ensuring it’s suitable for a child.’ Before he could sign, one of his legal people held up a hand and interrupted.

‘And with that, Miss Reys, we need some sort of guarantee to say that the address will be kept confidential.’ Katherine looked just about finished with the legality of it all, especially with Tony’s team hammering her every step of the way and making sure everything was private, kept away from the press and general public. It took more signatures on everyone’s part, but if it meant that Peter wasn’t going to grow up harassed by reporters, he was fine.

‘Once that’s signed you can go, thank you, I can assure Mary Fitzpatrick will not be involved in anything more regarding Peter, and everything that has happened will stay confidential.’ The legal team had the patience to exchange handshakes, as did Pepper, but Tony was already out the door and heading to the elevators with Peter nestled comfortably in his arms. They took the back exit of the hospital, but by that point it was early evening and not many people were around to see anything anyway.

‘Are you okay flying back tonight, or do you want me to get you a hotel?’ Pepper shook her head and just followed him to the car, directing the driver to where the jet was still landed.

‘I’m fine, are you okay with everything?’ He paused before answering, looking down at Peter who at some point had nudged his feet between the material of Tony’s suit jacket and shirt, and was lazily sucking on the end of his tie, half asleep and turned into the feel of the hand which hadn’t been moved from his hair. He took in the image for a moment, feeling the warmth tingling in his chest again, relishing in the knowledge that this thing in his lap, was his child, his son.

‘I am Pepper, I’m happy.’ For once in his life, Tony really was genuinely happy.

‘Did you change his name or remove Mary’s last name?’ She asked when they were settled in their seats.

‘Yes, his full name is Peter Benjamin Stark now, he has my last name but kept the middle name Mary chose.’ Pepper nodded, and Tony shuffled the boy further into his lap, so his head was supported on his elbow. ‘Can you hand me a device, I want to order things for him sooner rather than later.’ Rather than resting it on his lap, he leaned the computer on the arm rest so that Peter wasn’t disturbed. Tony spent the flight ordering anything he could think a baby would need and researching things he was curious about. ‘Peter’s not even five months yet and he can already say some half-words, they don’t normally speak for a few more months.’

‘If what you said about Mary is true, he’s most likely going to have the smart gene, like you.’ Pepper was being nice, but he hadn’t thought about that, he also hadn’t thought about Peter inheriting other traits from him.

‘What if he’s like me in other ways too?’ Pepper looked up from where she was reading something, and her eyes darted between the two.

‘Then you either teach him to not be that way, or you encourage whatever the behaviour is. That’s one of the big things with parenting, you need to decide what’s good and what’s bad, then teach it to your kid.’ Peter rolled onto his side, keeping Tony’s tie in his mouth and stretching up into the hand in his hair. ‘From what I saw through the window, it seemed like he reacted well to you almost immediately. He already knows how to say your name, or kind of at least.’

‘Yeah, he knows his own name really well and made sounds that were like half-words, but that woman was right, he’s very responsive for his age.’ If he grew up to be smart, he could join Tony in the lab and talk about similar things, but it wouldn’t bother him if the boy wasn’t interested in the same things. He wanted it to be Peter’s life, and he would be proud of anything the kid did, he wasn’t going to let him grow up starved of attention and feeling like he could never make his Dad happy. That situation was all too familiar for the older Stark. ‘I’ve ordered everything, express so it’ll all start to arrive by tomorrow,’ he glanced at his watch, checking to see if it was tomorrow yet. Luckily it wasn’t, because spending his first day as a parent wouldn’t start by keeping a baby up past midnight. Against his ribcage he could feel Peter’s chest rising and falling, the feeling of his warm breath blowing the fabric of his shirt into his skin.

‘You know that just because he’s asleep now and has been quiet all day, doesn’t mean he’ll stay like that forever.’ He raised an eyebrow in question, ‘at some point, he’s going to start crying or screaming, it comes along with diapers, teething, getting hungry, all the dirty work.’

‘I know that normally people have trouble working with a kid and getting enough sleep, but I feel like it won’t be much of an issue, what with how often I actually go to bed at a reasonable hour.’ Truthfully, it was more a case of how often he just didn’t sleep for days at a time.

‘Maybe, but you need to make sure you aren’t just down in the labs while Peter’s in the penthouse crying for hours.’ That wouldn’t be an issue for him, either the kid would be with him, or he was less than a room away. He was not Howard, he would not sit at the bar and down shot after shot while his child wailed from a cot he couldn’t get out of. Tony was not Howard.

‘I’m not,’ he said, staring out the plane’s window at the edge of the wing before it dissolved into the black of the night. ‘I mean, I won’t. I won’t do that to him Pep.’ He heard her phone being placed on a table and material moving as if she were repositioning herself, he pulled Peter closer to his chest and when he looked up she had crossed her legs.

‘You can’t become hyper focused on…’ she fiddled with the different ways of saying ‘your daddy issues’ before settling on something vague. ‘You can’t obsess over your own insecurities Tony. Judging by how you’ve already sworn off drinking and partying, things couldn’t be going better in this situation right now.’ He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose before dropping his hand back down to Peter’s curls and picking the circular motions back up.

‘I know, I’m just trying to – trying not to screw it all up.’ She peered at him from across the aisle.

‘Screw what up? What is ‘it’ specifically?’ She was making him voice everything out loud, he supposed he at least owed her that much based on how much she had already helped.

‘Screw him up. Ruin Peter. Raise another Tony Stark. Be another Howard. Take you pick because I’m avoiding them all because they scare the hell out of me and I can’t – I won’t do that.’ Pepper seemed genuinely taken aback by the fact that he actually said what he was thinking when she asked, but he guessed if change was happening it had to start somewhere.

‘You won’t, I trust that,’ he sniffed and turned back to face out the window. ‘If you’re going through with everything you’ve said so far, maybe raising another Tony wouldn’t be such a bad thing.’ The sound of her phone being picked up followed by tapping of the keypad. He brushed a stray lock of hair from Peter’s forehead and tucked it behind his ear, then stayed seated for the rest of the flight and thought about how much he had to actually change.

‘I should tell Happy,’ he said dumbly as the wheels touched the tarmac and the blurred lights rushed past the dark window.

‘If you want to, but he is picking us up, so you have to decide now.’ Peter had barely moved during the rest of the flight, and if he hadn’t read up about it there would be the familiar squeeze of worry at his throat. ‘Ready when you are,’ she smiled reassuringly and nodded towards the now open door. He stood slowly, readjusting his hold on the boy so he was confident there was no way he could fall, and then stepped down the stairs and bathed in the bleak darkness of the runway.

‘Car’s over here boss,’ he turned to face Happy, wincing when he realised that Peter’s small form was now completely visible to the driver. ‘Am I gonna need to get a booster seat?’ He asked humouredly, quirking an eyebrow and shooting him a serious look.

‘Happy, this is Peter. This is why I was in New York, this will be why you end up getting a raise based on how you handle it.’ He grinned right back, relieved to be back on familiar ground. ‘Mary Fitzpatrick, smart brunette from over a year ago?’ Happy took a moment to recall before recognition crossed his face.

‘The scientist, the one you left the party early for, the same one you took upstairs and… oh, oh Tony really? And she – pregnant?’ He nodded along with the pieces that seemed to fall into place within his head. ‘So, nine months, then what? Why now? How come I’m only seeing him now?’

‘Mary couldn’t, not with her work – it was too important, and I guess the four months she tried to make it work proved too difficult. I got a call from a hospital in Queens not that long ago and it took awhile for the DNA results to come back and then all of today getting paper work sorted, so…’ He scuffed the bottom of his shoe against the asphalt and popped his tongue, awkwardly trying to force the words out. ‘So, this is Peter, my son.’ Happy looked disgruntled but other than that he shrugged it off and Tony was immensely glad that it wasn’t going to be made a big deal of.

‘Should I really get a booster seat then?’ He huffed a laugh and shook his head, mocking the same way Katherine had exasperatedly done the same.

‘I’ve got everything sorted, all you need to do is keep it on the down-low, only you, Pep and me okay? Absolutely no press involved.’ Happy was familiar with doing that sort of thing, he often had to get Tony places that the press couldn’t get a whiff of, it was a common occurrence because some days the mechanic would just climb into the car, list off the location and mutter something about ‘no press, totally hungover.’

‘Got it. Home then?’ Tony nodded and settled into the seat, silently hoping Peter stayed asleep for the drive. A few times he noticed Happy’s eyes in he mirror looking to the hand buried in the child’s hair, but he didn’t still the movement for a moment. The drive wasn’t long, it felt shorter than normal in reality, and so when they pulled up the dark lashes still rested against Peter’s cheeks below closed lids he didn’t stir as Tony got out of the car and walked inside. Happy took Pepper off to where she would rest and nurse the ball of frustrating stress which made today. He stood in the middle of the lobby and looked down at Peter.

‘What am I doing with you now, hm?’ He figured he would wake soon and guessed that food was a smart option given the fact that the child hadn’t eaten in front of Tony that day yet. ‘Mushy, something mushy is what you eat isn’t it?’ He searched the kitchen until he decided on bananas being the safest bet, still opting to squish them into a form of paste with the back of a fork. Peter was still fast asleep by the time he finished, the child was still pressed between Tony’s suit jacket and shirt, so he found a throw that was draped over the back of a couch and wrapped the boy up in it, hoping it was more comfortable. ‘You sleep a lot for a baby, or at least I think you do.’

It was another twenty odd minutes before Peter roused, and Tony had begun to wonder whether he should just wake the kid on his own. His nose scrunched first, then his foot kicked from under the throw like it had in the cot at the hospital, then his eyelashes were fluttering, and Tony was staring into the large, hazel eyes that looked so much like his own. Peter blinked rapidly and then smiled back up at him, cheeks tinting a rosy shade as he began to giggle quietly.

‘Toh,’ he tittered happily. The boy unfurled his hands and wiggled them wildly in the air under Tony’s chin. ‘Ney!’ Peter cried through a large smile, as if he were proud of himself for managing to say Tony’s name, or mostly say it.

‘Hey,’ the mechanic cooed, pulling off his tie and throwing it aside so it didn’t dangle in Peter’s face intrusively. ‘You slept through the whole plane ride kid,’ he got a noisy, gleeful laugh in response. ‘Wanna eat something now?’ The small, flailing hands found a button on Tony’s shirt and twisted it around in circles delightedly.

‘Eh teh!’ Peter squealed from his lap.

‘Eat?’ Tony repeated curiously, watching the boy’s small nose wrinkle for a moment before testing out the word again.

‘Eht,’ although the noise sounded more like ‘it’ than ‘eat,’ Tony took it as a win and grinned widely at the child, reaching for the bowl of mushed banana and pulling it closer to the edge of the bench.

‘Yeah, eat, good job Pete,’ he praised softly, moving his little body so his back rested against Tony’s stomach in a sitting position. He guided a small spoonful towards the boy and hoped he would take it easily.

‘Peter,’ he parroted, annunciating the word perfectly as if he had a hundred times before. He reached out an unsteady hand and grasped for the spoon helpfully, but Tony weaved around him and danced a finger over his cheek carefully.

‘Open,’ he urged, gently tapping the edge of the spoon against Peter’s lips coaxingly. To Tony’s relief, the boy immediately responded by parting his lips and darting his tongue out quickly, all with the smile still on his face. ‘There you go,’ he said approvingly, guiding more of the mush for Peter to eat, carefully moving away the small hands which still made grabby motions for the spoon. It didn’t take as much time for him to finish the bowl as Tony expected, but he was surprised by how little fuss Peter had made. From what he had read, it was common for children to throw tantrums over eating what they were offered.

‘Toh Ney?’ He put the bowl on the counter and turned Peter around in his lap, so they faced each other. He had stilled his grabby hands, but now clutched to Tony’s shirt sleeve and wrist with oddly comforting conviction.

‘What’s the matter?’ He whined high in his throat and tapped the wrist urgently, beginning to wriggle around. ‘You want to eat more?’ He didn’t get a response, just more wild squirming, ‘wow, hey don’t move too much or you’ll fall, okay?’ He used his free hand to cup Peter’s back and block him in so there was no way he could scoot off the back of his lap.

‘Toh Neeeey!’ Peter leaned forward and stuck the cuff of Tony’s sleeve into his mouth, sucking it lazily while continuing to writhe around.

‘Why are you moving so much kid?’ The movements didn’t still, ‘what do babies do? You eat, sleep, oh…’ He tilted Peter’s chin up gently and looked down at him seriously, ‘hey, are you wiggling ‘round because you’ve gone toilet, or you need to?’ The doe eyes blinked at him several times in answer, but Tony was sure he had guessed correctly. He had never changed a diaper before, he didn’t own diapers for obvious reasons, so he texted Happy to pick some up on the way to drop Pepper off. ‘I know Pete, don’t worry I’ll get you out of that soon okay?’

‘Peter,’ the kid was confident enough in saying his own name, and he seemed to pick up Tony’s quickly enough. His large eyes were looking around the space curiously, peering behind himself and up at all the things above him.

‘Wanna keep looking at stuff while I wait for diapers?’ Tony asked, already standing up and holding Peter so he could see easily.

‘Ah,’ he demanded excitedly, batting his eyes and turning to see everything new.

‘Grand tour it is I guess,’ Tony held Peter in such a way that he could easily crane his neck forward and press a kiss to the top of his head, which is exactly what he did do. By the time he had worked his way down to the workshop, Happy had texted him saying the box was left by the front door. ‘You still need a change kid, time to head upstairs again.’ He overlooked how wide Peter’s eyes grew when he saw all the machinery and projects that laid around Tony’s workspace, instead opting to twist the boy around and smile at him while he was carried back to the foyer.

The box by the front door had large zip ties attached so he didn’t need to put Peter down to lift it inside, just merely carried it by two fingers and kept the boy rested against his hip securely. ‘Alright, I’ve never done this before so… let’s get you to the bathroom so you can get cleaned up and grab a fresh diaper, that sound good?’

‘Baf,’ Peter shrieked, dropping the sleeve from his mouth and reaching out in all directions. Tony assumed ‘baf’ meant ‘bath,’ so he guessed the child knew about them. The excitement only increased when he stepped into the bathroom and gestured to the tub. The mechanic started up the taps while he began the arduous task of removing Peter’s diaper and cleaning him with wipes. Luckily, the water level hadn’t risen very high by the time he was done, because the taps were set to practically a drip. He leant over the tub and let the child watch the water rippling. ‘Bub,’ he said curiously, and Tony looked at him just as confused. ‘Bub,’ he repeated, staring back at him and waiting for an answer before trying harder to get his point across. ‘Bub… ills,’ he said, more determined.

‘Are you saying bubbles?’ Tony asked, looking at the plain water.

‘Bub ills,’ he tried again, pointing a hand to the tub.

‘Okay, I’ll see what I can find,’ he ended up pouring shampoo under the tap and frothing it about until bubbles formed over the surface of the water. ‘Is that good?’ Peter’s smile broadened, and Tony scooped up some foam on a finger and let him gawk at it from his lap. When he was comfortable enough with the water level, he sat on his knees and rested his chest against the side of the tub, letting Peter’s feet dangle and kick the surface. His giggles increased the more he was lowered into the water and when he was sitting with the water up to his stomach, surrounded by bubbles, Tony smiled and ruffled his hair fondly. ‘Good?’ Peter beamed up at him and pushed the water around with his free hand.

He stayed in the bath until the tips of his fingers were wrinkled and Tony’s chest had a line from where he leant against the tub. When the child was dressed again, and a towel had been rubbed over his damp hair, he carried the boy down to the workshop and draped his small form in blankets. After the soft fabric had been wrapped around him, Peter shook his arms free and whined until Tony lifted him high enough to curl them around his neck and rest there. The mechanic let Peter nestle his face into his neck and cuddle up close while he began to tinker uninterestedly, his mind was too alive with the choices he had already made today. Tony had chosen to be a Father, he had sworn off alcohol, not to mention promised to protect a human for the rest of his life. The looming idea that at any moment he could do something too akin to Howard hung over his head and soured the warm feeling inside his chest. ‘You get some more sleep Peter, it’s been a long day kiddo,’ he pressed another kiss into his hairline and rested his cheek against his back, smiling when he felt the small hands around the back of his neck squeeze in response.

It only took another hour and a half for Peter to fall asleep, and by that point it was so early in the morning that it was Tony’s bedtime too, or it least it was before he realised having a healthy sleep schedule would probably benefit the kid. His kid, he reminded himself. Peter was his kid. The cot hadn’t arrived, everything he ordered was due to show up starting tomorrow, so he took the sleeping boy up to his own room and laid down, stomach-up on his bed, watching the dozing child resting on his chest, cheek pressed over his heart. ‘Night kiddo,’ he whispered, placing his lips onto the small forehead and closing his own eyes.

----

“Hey, Tony?” He snapped his eyes open, immediately looking down to Peter, who was still curled up on the couch, resting against his own front and using him as a pillow. The teen was still asleep, dark eyelashes low and breath coming out slowly as his chest rose and fell far more easily than it had days ago. “Tony?” He pulled his attention from his son and leant his head back to see Steve standing by the door. “Sorry if you were asleep then.”

“No, it’s okay, I was just thinking, not really sleeping.” He blearily rubbed his eyes with a fist that wasn’t embedded in Peter’s curls. “What’s up Capsicle?” The man looked down unsurely at the unmoving boy leaning against Tony.

“Is he asleep?” He bent his chin down and double checked before nodding, “just checking, I moved all the files and pictures that were sent to us of – of him… and, uh, yeah I just put them on a separate stick so if we need them they’re there but not just sitting out in the open.” He hadn’t even thought about if Peter had seen those, or how he’d react if he logged into the computer and they popped up, he was glad Steve had thought of it first.

“Oh, that’s really helpful, thanks.” He got lost in the movement of massaging Peter’s scalp for a moment, before looking back up. “You need anything else? Lunch was really good by the way, not just the food I mean.”

“It went good, yeah. No, I didn’t need anything, just came to let you know about the files.” They just stared into the distance for a moment, Steve looking out the window. “It’s gonna rain soon, we should have a movie night when the kid’s allowed.” Tony huffed a laugh.

“Wow Cap, have we really sunk so low that you’re making polite weather small talk with me?” He received an eye roll and a smile as a response. “Yeah, we should do a movie night, sounds good.”

“Alright, I’ll leave you be now, don’t forget to get some sleep yourself.” He mock saluted as Steve left the room and pulled a final eye roll from the man successfully. He turned his attention back to Peter and smiled at the peaceful expression printed across his face.

“I’ll get some sleep too, for Cap’s sake huh? I’m stayin’ right here with you buddy.” He closed his eyes and took some time to fall asleep, but he got there in the end, and Peter didn’t stir for a moment on his chest.

Steve was right about the rain, it floated over the Tower in gentle waves only an hour or so after Tony finally fell asleep. Far below on the concrete outside, the water pooled together and created silvery puddles which pedestrians and taxis splashed through without another thought. At first, it came spilling down from the flat, grey skies softly, only pattering against the windows of the lounge the Stark’s slept in silently, not heard by either of them. Soon though, after another hour of quiet, the intensity picked up and the rain fell in chaotic droplets, bustling wind carrying them with impetuous force. They splattered against the window in diagonal sheets and fell as if the sole purpose was to smudge the skyline and it’s lights like an impressionist painting. The sound of the drops contacting the glass grew, until it was piercingly audible, even in sleep, to the teen with enhanced hearing.

Peter’s face screwed, and he whimpered softly, his fingers tightening around Tony’s shirt desperately and his whimpers grew to sobs. His lips trembled dangerously and his whole body began to vibrate from instinctual fear. The rain didn’t respond to the boy’s mumbled cries, it continued to pound away against the window and chip away at the blanket feeling of ‘safe.’

“No… ‘s cold, s’ cold – h – hur’s… please…” He sobbed more, tears finally beginning to fall while his body racked along with the movement of his unconscious terror. Because in his mind, the rain wasn’t rain, the glass wasn’t glass, and all he was hearing was the sound of the sprinklers splashing down against the tiles in his cell, occasionally falling onto the collar of metal that still wrapped around his neck tightly. “Please, s’ too cold, m’ too tired, s’ cold… cold… please…” he sniffled and gripped his fingers so taught that the material of his Dad’s shirt stretched awkwardly in his balled fists.

“Mm… Pete?” Tony was barely rousing from his sleep, voice still coated from it and eyes feeling glued shut.

“Hur’s, s’ cold, cold… nonono please…” It took Peter’s mind a minute to catch up, then what had been burnt into his mind for almost three weeks came snapping back to the forefront of his consciousness and he was forcing his eyes open to avoid the harsh spray and falling back from the couch, off his Dad’s lap and onto the floor. His still clouded head couldn’t process the soft carpet and it instinctively melted away and was made to feel like tile under his hands. “No!” He screamed into the dark of the living room, his brain wired horribly to hear the phantom screeches of the speakers, the seizure-inducing intensity of the lights and the feeling of that icy metal locked up against his throat, squeezing into him and holding him off the ground for so many brutal nights.

The wail followed by hysterical sobs from his child tore Tony to wakefulness and he ripped open his eyes and jolted up, pure terror shooting through him when he wasn’t met with the familiar warmth and weight of his son. His eyes hadn’t adjusted to the darkness that crept into the room during his sleep, and the same emotions he had endured for those three weeks filled with sleepless nights and the knowledge that Peter was being hurt, tortured, broken, they all flooded back.

“Peter! Baby, no, no, where are you?” He gasped, reaching around the couch blindly as if the boy would suddenly appear much like the remote usually did after it was lost. “No, baby please, come on! Peter? Peter!”

Meanwhile, the teen hunched on the ground was thrashing violently against imaginary chains that looped around him and cut harsh bruising across his pale body. He made a choking noise, fingers scrabbling to his neck through the constant, raging sobs, trying to rip away the metal band that wasn’t there. He screamed again, the noise hoarse and jarring, when he was unable to break away from the sensation of the cruel restraints and battering, icy showers.

“Oh god!” Tony cried, throwing himself off the couch and lunging toward the nightmarish sounds that Peter was making with his still injured throat. “Peter!” He pulled the boy into his arms and laid his own legs over Peter’s, which were kicking out and trying to gain traction as if his feet were still barely able to graze the floor while his body was supported fully and completely by the band around his neck. He reached his arms out and gripped his kid’s wrists, pulling them away from where he was digging nails into his own throat and chin, fiercely trying to eradicate the feeling of suffocation. “Stop it, you need to stop!” A cracked wail filled the room and Peter heaved again, hallucinating and finding himself unable to repress the feeling of everything he already had felt for the past three weeks.

Tony needed to find an anchor for his child to focus on immediately, to ground him and keep him tethered to reality through the panic attack. His mind danced and sorted through rapid-fire options until he settled on the most obvious. The rain. Peter had always loved rain, it had always enraptured him as a baby and he pleaded to run around outside as a toddler and young child, not even faltering at the strikes of thunder and lightning like most children did. Even as a teenager, Peter relished in getting to walk to school through the rain, tumbling through a window and whipping off his dripping mask with an ear-splitting grin and babbling excitedly about being able to patrol through a rainfall.

The rain it was. He twisted the struggling boy around and laid a hand over his heart, pulling one of Peter’s up to his own pulse point and forcing himself to breathe easy. “Hey, hey! You feel that, you need to focus on this, focus on my heartbeat okay baby?” He could feel the teens fingers tremoring against him and he brought a spare hand up behind Peter’s head and eased him forward, so their foreheads rested together. “Feel that? Good, there you go. Breathe with me, breathe… breathe… breathe…” He waited until the struggling had subsided before saying anything other than ‘breathe.’ Tony didn’t think about what he had expected, but it was something positive, rain had always been a calming influencer for the youngest Stark. Therefore, when the mechanic rubbed circles over Peter’s wrist and murmured encouragingly, “there, yeah, there you go, breathe… now focus on the sound, hear the rain? Against the windows? You love the rain, concentrate on that now,” he had been stunned with Peter’s reaction.

“No!” He screamed again, wrenching his entire body away from his Dad’s comforting hold and scurrying back so forcibly that he probably would have put a hole in the wall by slamming into it if he hadn’t careened into something else first. Well, technically someone else.

“Tony?” He barely had time to recognise Steve’s concerned voice when the lights flicked on and Peter let out another agonising scream and threw his hands over his eyes forcefully. Even without sight, he stumbled blindly backward on the floor until his back hit the wall and then proceeded to furl into a ball, clutching himself to shrink down into the smallest possible position. “What –” the worried soldier began before taking in the terrified, quaking Peter alongside the absolutely gut wrenched and shook up Tony who sat a few feet away.

The Father heard a clang and looked to see Steve’s prototype shield being flung to the side as he dropped down on one knee and held a placating arm out towards Peter’s hunched form, slowly approaching him like a wounded animal.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y block all ambient sound from outside the Tower, now.” The A.I immediately obeyed Tony’s request, shutting out the sound of the rain which was usually only the cause of extra comfort and content. “Steve wait, he isn’t – he’s not really ‘here’ right now.” He needed to find something else to link Peter to the now, to real, but right now he was honestly petrified of choosing something that triggers him more and tips him over the edge to the point of hyperventilating or passing out.

“I’m sorry, I heard screaming and thought that –” He waved away his teammates concern and moved to crouch beside him.

“It’s fine Steve,” he looked to Peter and wanted so badly to reach out and comfort him, but was too scared of startling him any further, but alternatively he was also afraid of just leaving him to ride out the attack without any physical comfort. “Hey, hey kiddo. Peter I’m here, it’s me okay?” Another quiet whimper in response and Tony could feel his resolve beginning to crumble.

“Can I – what – how do I help here Tony?” Steve sounded more unsure of himself the longer the whole situation stretched out and the more time he got to see the small flakes of blood beading up under Peter’s nails.

“I don’t – I don’t know, it’s never been this bad before…” his voice was barely a whisper and luckily Steve didn’t have to strain to hear from how close he sat. “I don’t even know what set him off? God, I was sleeping for fuck’s sake,” his head dropped into his hands for a moment before he peeled them away and ran them through his hair stressfully. “Okay, okay, Peter?” He inched closer slowly, keeping a hand braced behind him to gesture for Steve to stay still. “Hey, baby I’m gonna let you hear my heartbeat again, it’ll be okay, it’s all right.” He slid further and further across the carpet until his fingers were hovering just above where Peter’s hands still clutched to his legs. “Hi, hey Petey, I need you to stay calm for me, I’m just gonna touch your shoulder now, kay?” He hesitated for the briefest of moments before leaning forward and laying a gentle hand over Peter’s sleeved shoulder, not pressing down at all, just lightly resting it there. The teen thankfully didn’t startle, just tensed slightly before loosening up a fraction. “Good job, there you go, it’s all okay now, you’re safe baby.”

Tony laid a second hand over one of Peter’s hands and moved it delicately up to rest over his heart. “Calm your breathing, match my heartbeat, breathe… in, out, breathe… in, hold it with me, there you go and out, keep doing it with me.” Steve watched while Tony exaggerated his own breaths and kept Peter’s hand plastered above his heart, coaxing him slowly through the process and eventually dropping his head so they bumped together lightly and stayed pressed against each other. “Keep breathing with me, you’re doing so well, I’m so proud of you,” he praised before continuing the instructions and breath counting with such guiding words that it felt like it must have been a known occurrence for the two.

Eventually, after what felt like hours but in reality, was much closer to quarter of an hour, Peter’s breathing evened out enough for him to unfurl and latch on to Tony shakily. “Hey, you did so good for me kiddo, you’re so brave,” he pressed his lips into Peter’s hair and eased out comforting words of affirmation and commendation. A few lone sniffles were muffled against Tony’s neck, but he shushed each of them lovingly, “shh, shh, it’s okay now, just keep breathing for me and nothing else is gonna happen.” Steve felt like he shouldn’t intrude on the moment any longer, but he worried that standing to leave would break the mild suppression of panic that Tony had managed to create.

“You need me to go?” He asked weakly, unsure of any movement whatsoever without some sort of approval from the experienced Father.

“Uh, yeah o – okay, thank you Steve, seriously.” Tony locked eyes with him quickly, taking them off Peter for a short while. “Seriously, I mean it, thank you.”

“It’s my job, call if you need,” he said in a lower voice, shuffling back to pick up his discarded shield and backing out the doorway privately. As soon as he retreated from view, Tony’s eyes darted back to his son. Peter was clung to him tightly, his face buried against his neck while a few jittering sobs still shook his frame. He sighed concernedly and turned around, so his back rested against the wall and he could wrap both arms around Peter carefully.

“You with me right now kiddo?” He received a shaky nod in response and pulled the boy even closer. “You’re okay, it’s alright,” he picked up one of Peter’s hands and touched it to his neck, avoiding the worst of the scratches and still fading bruises. “Feel that? Can you feel that Pete? That’s skin, just skin, there’s nothing else there okay?” The teen mumbled a quiet affirmation but pulled his arm back to wrap it around his Dad again. “Okay, shh, I’m here, it’s okay baby.” Tony clutched the back of Peter’s head and tucked his face further into the crook of his neck. They stayed locked in the embrace for a while, letting the boy calm down all the way before starting to talk.

“M’ sorry, m’ really sorry…” Peter whispered, still being cradled into Tony’s chest securely.

“Don’t be sorry, it’s not your fault,” he assured, kissing his head kindly, trying to calm him further. “What happened, did you have a nightmare?” He felt the smaller body tense against him and he backpedalled, thinking he wasn’t ready to talk about it yet. “Hey, no never mind kiddo, you don’t need to talk about it if you don’t wan –”

“No, I just – the noise… it was too much like – like the sprinklers… sounded the same.” He nestled his face deeper into the side of Tony’s neck and took some more deep breaths. “It sounds the same, and I – I think it just… set off too many memories and I could – I could feel the metal, I could feel it – it was all there Dad, and I just – I couldn’t – I couldn’t breathe again…” He started to tremble again, and Tony shushed him, beginning to rock back and forth against the wall slowly.

“No, no it’s okay, it’s gone now, no more rain – F.R.I’s blocking it out.” He curved his arm around the nape of Peter’s neck and took support of it, letting the boy fully slump in the hold. “Shh now, you don’t need to explain, I understand and it’s okay, it’s all okay.” He stayed in the same position, holding Peter tightly against himself and running fingers through his hair and up his back, for almost another hour they stayed there. Tony pulled back and tilted the teen’s chin up to survey the damage he scratched into his neck, there were angry lines but luckily only some of them had bled. “Let’s get you back to the Med Bay now, huh? I need to get Helen to check these out and get you something for the pain since you haven’t had any since this morning.

“N – no doctors right now… please, I don’t – m’ too exhausted to deal with them right now… sorry.” He lifted Peter to his feet and pressed a kiss to the side of his head while his voice shook. “Just wanna lie down…” he swayed on his feet and Tony took his hands carefully, pulling him back to his chest and taking some of his weight.

“Okay, I’ll get you into bed and disinfect the worst of those cuts, then you need to eat something and have more water.” He paused and looked down at Peter’s half-lidded eyes and sighed, “are you feeling lightheaded?”

“A little, m’ not gonna pass out or anything though,” he seemed to find his balance, but Tony kept a steadying arm around his side while they walked. He let Peter lean against his side in the elevator and they stood silently for the ride to the Med Bay. “I’m sorry I woke you up,” he said in a quiet voice, scuffing his feet against the floor and refusing to make eye contact.

“Peter,” he ran the pad of his thumb under the boy’s eye, wiping away the tear tracks. “Look at me for a second,” he smiled softly when the hazel eyes darted up to meet his. “It’s not your fault, don’t apologise,” he said seriously, moving his thumb aside in favour of cupping his cheek gently. “You never need to say sorry for having a panic attack, okay? Never.” Peter closed his eyes against the hand and leant into the touch.

“But you haven’t been sleeping…” He rested his forehead against his Dad’s shoulder and breathed out a shaky sigh. “You need to sleep, but I keep waking you up,” he felt his eyes prickling and the guilt ate away inside him. “M’ just really sorry,” he muttered, turning away and swallowing the lump in his throat.

“No, Pete, stop saying sorry.” Tony flipped the hood on Peter’s sweatshirt, using it to tug him closer and pull his head down against his chest. “I’ve been getting enough sleep, it’s okay, you’re the one who needs to rest more.” The doors opened, and he guided Peter out and down the hall to the Med Bay room. “You get into bed, I’m just finding some disinfectant,” he kept his arms out, hovering close enough behind to catch him if he fell. He fiddled with the bed settings so that Peter was sat up before he turned back to rifle through draws and find disinfectant. When he found the small bottle and some swabs to apply them with, he sat on the bed next to the boy and tilted his chin up with a light touch. “It might be a little cold, they shouldn’t be deep enough to sting but tell me if they do.” He slowly dabbed over the minor scratches and was careful to wipe away any of the dried blood. It didn’t take long, there weren’t many marks and Peter didn’t struggle, just sat quietly and looked at the ceiling. He winced once when Tony got to the deepest of the cuts, but other than that he didn’t make any motion.

“I love you Dad,” he said out of the blue, finally looking down from the roof and reaching his fingers out to hold Tony’s hand. The mechanic finished cleaning the wounds and put the bottle and swabs aside, squeezing the hand gently.

“I know, I love you too Pete.” He smiled sadly but still shuffled to let the teen rest against his chest. “They left food for you, I want you to eat some of the fruit and finish a cup of water, at least.” Peter did, it took him a little longer than usual, but he managed to get it down. “How bad is the pain?”

“It’s fine, I don’t need anything.” He knew the boy was downplaying the pain, so he didn’t have to get a doctor, but he figured the kid would tell him if anything hurt too much.

“Okay then, try to rest again, you look exhausted.” Peter mumbled something quietly but shuffled down to lay over his heartbeat again and let it lull him to sleep. After some time, Tony realised his breathing hadn’t slowed down like it normally did when he slept, so he lifted Peter’s chin and realised his eyes weren’t even shut. “Hey, whatcha doing kiddo?”

“Dad… I just – I – I can’t.” He sat up more and pulled Peter with him, hushing him mildly and pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“What’s the matter? What can’t you do?” Tears welled in the teens eyes and he sniffed quietly.

“Close my eyes, sleep… I can’t, I can’t,” he looked shattered, the bruises weren’t fading as fast as Tony would have liked, his eyes were rimmed red and underlined with dark bags. His fingers trembled along with his lower lip and he was intensely drained of most energy.

“You can’t, or you don’t want to?” Peter dropped the eye contact and chewed on the inside of his cheek nervously.

“I don’t want to… b – because I can’t keep doing this, th – the nightmares and the panic attacks. I can see it and I – I’m scaring you, I’m scaring me, Dad. I’m too terrified to even try and sleep because I don’t wanna see it all again, I can’t keep waking up like… like that.” He brushed a sleeve over his cheek and rubbed his nose tiredly, pitching forward and leaning into Tony.

“I know,” he whispered into the boy’s curls, letting him sink onto his chest lazily and throwing an arm over his shoulders. “I know because after New York I would put you to bed and then work in the labs till the next morning. I only went to bed if somebody forced me too, or if I practically passed out. Peter you can’t do that too, it’s unhealthy, but I get that you’re scared okay, you have every right to be.” Tony started to run his fingers through the golden-brown hair slowly, “Reliving shit in your dreams is horrible, but you need to sleep, you need to at least try. I’m staying here, and I’ll be there if you wake up, you gotta try kiddo, don’t say you can’t.”

“I’m just so tired of seeing their faces…” Peter hid his face by Tony’s shoulder and slumped, giving up on trying to hold his own weight. “It’s always so real and I – I think I’m back there when I wake up, I’m so on edge all the time, it’s exhausting.”

“I know baby, it gets better I swear, it just takes time.” Peter knew all of that, he had seen Tony go through the exact same thing after Afghanistan and the attack on New York, but the truth was his Dad was never really the same again, and that’s what scared him the most. The thought of being changed permanently by what he had been through made him feel sick, like he had been broken and the cracks would never truly fade.

“I don’t want to be like this, I don’t want to wait, I just want to go back to before everything… I should’ve told you that I loved you that morning.” He looked away sadly, trying to bite back the tears he could feel burning behind his closed eyes.

“I should have just driven you to school myself, or found you sooner, I should have been better, but I wasn’t, and I reminded myself every day I saw you lying in that bed, hooked up to all these machines. It kills me Peter, knowing you were being hurt and I couldn’t do anything about it, but I’m still here. It hurts, it really fucking hurts to see you like this, but we’re getting through it okay, bit by bit. I don’t care how long this takes us to work through, I’m with you, I’m with you okay baby?” He reached out and laid a hand over Peter’s pulse point. “You feel that, you’re here, you’re breathing and you’re alive. They didn’t break you, alright? You’re gonna be okay Peter.”

“I don’t even know if this is ever going away,” he touched his chest gingerly, poking at his carved arc reactor. “A – and if it doesn’t go away… it’s staying there forever like he wanted it to. Okay? I can’t – I won’t be able to deal with that Dad, I won’t be able to look at that every morning, it’s not – it’s not okay.” Tony pushed away the hand Peter was holding against his chest and looked at him intently.

“It’ll go away, if not on its own then I’ll get something that makes it fade. Medicine is advancing now, and you can’t worry about that because I won’t let you. Don’t focus on that right now, I swear it will go away. You need to think about your sleep because I’m not letting you do what I did, I’m gonna be here through every nightmare and every panic attack.” He reached out and pushed the button that lowered the bed, so they were lying almost horizontal. “I’m giving you tonight, because you slept for long enough this afternoon, but tomorrow onwards you’re sleeping minimum seven hours a day. I’ll stay with you for all of them okay? That’s a good deal, you happy?”

“Can’t say I’m happy about it but I’ll manage if you’re there.” They shook, and Tony lifted his hand when the grip dropped to stroke Peter’s cheek. “M’ gonna need more coffee,” the teen mumbled.

“You have never, and probably will never, need coffee. Kiddo your metabolism is fast enough as it is so there isn’t any point” Tony argued,

“Placebo effect,” he shot back with a small smile. The finger on his cheek moved up into his hair and he sighed happily, arching his neck back against his Dad’s shoulder and focusing on the feeling. “Hey Dad?”

“Yeah?” He tilted his head too look down at Peter.

“Since I’m not sleeping tonight, and I’ve been saving this for… I don’t know I – I guess I was waiting till you had a bad night or something… but, I wanna just show you now.”

“Okay… what is it?” Peter grinned widely and propped himself up on an elbow, looking at the far wall curiously.

“Can I – uh, is there a T.V in here?” Tony nodded and reached over beside the bed to press a button so the shelf on the wall split in two and spread apart, revealing a moderately sized screen. Peter was practically vibrating with exited energy and tapping his Dad’s hand eagerly, gearing up for what he had been yearning too for what felt like too long.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y? Play all Captain America PSA’s for us.”