{Author's Note: So this is a follow up to Death Over Life. I'll probably add to this universe as inspiration hits me. Also, there's too few of Happy POV stories out there, so this is my small attempt to rectify that. I don't own Marvel, and spoiler alert, I never will.}
Per usual for a day devoid of after school academic decathlon practice, right around 2:45 P.M., Happy joined the line of soccer moms, stay-at-home dads, older siblings, or whoever happened to be assigned to after-school pickup just outside the front doors of Midtown School of Science and Technology.
Fifteen years ago, if you would have told Happy that his life would go from being the personal chauffeur and bodyguard for the world's most famous billionaire, playboy, genius, philanthropist to revolving around driving a kid to and from school, to play dates, and/or whatever random activity of the week said kid was involved in, he probably would have said they were describing his worst nightmare or he would have simply laughed in that person's face.
But that was his life now. And honestly, there was nothing he would rather do.
But, of course, Happy's job was so much more than just being the kid's chauffeur. Happy had kept the role of personal bodyguard for mini-Stark, just as he once had for the boy's father, even though taking on the position meant he had to step down from being Stark Industries Head of Security. Pepper had been more than understanding though, and he had never regretted his choice. After Tony died . . . well, nothing seemed as important as looking out for Peter, not even Stark Industries. Besides, Happy knew it was what his friend would have wanted. He would have wanted someone to look after his kid, since he wasn't around to do it himself.
At about 3:00 P.M., the rear door of the Audi opened, and Peter quickly slid inside before slamming the door shut behind him a little more forcefully than was necessary.
"Hey, kid. How was school?"
"Hey, Happy." Peter mumbled. "It was fine."
Fine. So not fine then. If it really was fine, then the kid would have continued, talking his ear off a mile-a-minute. In that regard, Peter was exactly like his father. But when Peter just remained silent, Happy knew that school had decidedly not been fine.
"Just fine?" Happy prompted.
"Yep." Peter replied dead-panned.
Happy had gotten to know Peter well enough over the barely fourteen short years of the kid's life to the point where if something was seriously bothering him, Happy would be able to pick up on it, or at least he liked to think he did most of the time. But in the interest of giving Peter time to brood a bit, Happy chose to wait a little while to see if the kid would come out with whatever was bothering him before Happy had to pry it out of him.
When a few minutes later Peter still hadn't elaborated on whatever had him staring silently out the window like a woman in an old movie waiting for her husband to come back from war, Happy took it upon himself to get the kid to open up. Once again, if you would have told Happy he would be trying to get a teenager to discuss his feelings fifteen years ago, he would have never believed you. Happy was not much for chit-chat, and he was especially not into talking about feelings, but . . . the kid was an exception. Somewhere along the way . . . well, Peter had warmed his way into holding a special place in Happy's heart, and Happy had long since accepted it, even if he usually kept that knowledge to himself.
"Alright, Junior, what's the matter? That Flash kid bothering you again?"
Happy would have liked to put the fear of god in that brat long ago to get him to stop making Peter's life a living hell, but the kid had been adamantly against him doing anything. He'd even gone so far as forbidding Happy from telling Rhodey about the bullying Peter suffered on a day-to-day basis. So far, Happy had respected the kid's wishes, but if it got much worse or ever became physical, Happy was going to make sure Eugene never set foot in Midtown High again. But for now, Peter said he could handle it, and he'd rather it be him being picked on than someone else. Selfless little shit . . . just like his father.
"No." Peter replied too quickly, and Happy raised his eyebrows at him in the car's review mirror. Peter sighed. "It's not him. He's—I mean he's still his usual jerkish self, but that's not why. It's not that."
"Then what's wrong? Whatever it is—unless it puts you in danger—I promise I won't tell Rhodey. I'm like a vault."
Happy wasn't even embarrassed by the concern bleeding into his voice. A little over a month ago, Peter had gotten sick. Really sick. He'd been in the hospital for four days with a high-fever and seizures, all while burning through IVs at an unprecedented rate. No one—not even the widely renowned specialist Rhodey had flown in—had been able to figure out what was wrong with him.
The kid had seemed to get worse and worse, but then, miraculously, on the third day, Peter's fever broke, the seizures stopped, and the next day, the doctors gave him the all clear to go home, chalking it up to a random strain of influenza. But those three days had been hell for Happy, Rhodey, and Pepper. And well, when Peter had woken up, there'd been some tears on everyone's part. So it was no secret to either of them that Happy cared, even if he wasn't always the best at expressing it. And since that time, they'd all been a little on edge.
"Come on kid. You gotta give me something to work with here. I'm not a mind reader."
Happy looked back at the kid in his review mirror once again to find him fiddling with his seat belt, and Happy was hit with a memory of a similar, yet oh so different, scene from years ago of a much smaller Peter.
Peter was in his car seat pulling at the straps, while tears threatened to spill out of his wide brown eyes.
"Oh bambino. It's okay. I'm right here." Said Tony leaning over to kiss his son's forehead, even as his own seatbelt strained to keep him in place. "We talked about this, kiddo. Remember? You can't sit on my lap when we're in the car. Safety first, Peter. That's my motto."
From the driver seat, at that last statement, Happy let out a snort.
"Hey! I resent that snort. Despite what you may have heard or observed in the past, I'll have you know that I am now a very responsible adult. Heck, even when I was building the iron man suit, I equipped Dum-E with a fire extinguisher. So see? Safety first."
"Yea I've seen the videos, Boss. Remind me, did the addition of the fire extinguisher come before or after you crashed into the wall . . . or through three floors of your house?"
"Dam—darn it J.A.R.V.I.S! Those videos were not supposed to see the light of day! When we get home, I need to have a long discussion with him about loyalty and respecting people's privacy. . . or at least my privacy." Tony turned back to Peter who had resorted to sucking his thumb and twirling a piece of hair on top of his head with his other hand, while looking back and forth between the two men uncertainly. Even for as smart as the boy was for a toddler, he was still too young to quite follow the conversation. "Either way, I think the lesson we've learned today, is to do as I say, not as I do. And besides, you're the most previous cargo, Petey, so we can't take any chances."
"He'll save you a lot of trouble if he's able to follow that lesson as a teenager, but I think that's wishful thinking. Don't you?" Happy retorted as he turned a corner.
"How dare you, Happy." Replied Tony without any real ill-will. "My kid's going to be a little angel forever. Aren't you Peter?"
"Daddy." Peter just whined and made grabby hands at his father, still set on breaking free of his car seat and sitting on his dad's lap, but moving on to a new tactic since he wasn't getting anywhere with his escape. The kid was so smart that he would probably have managed to get free if he was in a normal car seat, but Tony had updated the car seat to keep even a Stark tot in check.
"I'm still right here, buddy." Said Tony wiggling one of Peter's feet a little bit in the hope of cheering him up. "I'll always have your back. You know that, right? Even if I can't be right beside you all the time. But I'm here now kiddie, so can you dial back the tears for daddy? Please?"
Peter just continued to cry. His little heart set on being as close to his father as possible.
Tony ran one hand through his hair. Frustrated—not at Peter, never at Peter—but that he couldn't comfort his kid.
"Happy, never let me forget Tantor the Elephant again, okay? That was mistake number one today."
"You know, Boss, I can think of another sure way to get him to stop crying." Said Happy casually.
"Nope. Not happening." Tony quickly retorted. "I am not doing that in front of you, Happy. That's for Peter's ears only, so nice try."
But just then, Peter let out another loud wail, and Happy glanced back in his mirror to see his boss's resolve failing.
"Come one, Tony. It's not like I can record you . . . this time. I'm driving."
"Uh-huh. A likely story. Even with your ineptitude with technology, I'm sure you'd find a way."
"I think I've gotten plenty of blackmail on you at this point, Boss. I don't really need anymore. And how about we ask the kid. See what he thinks. Peter" Happy paused as little Peter looked up at the sound of his name. "You want your dad to sing for you, don't you squirt?"
"I'm sure he doesn't want that. I'm not—" Tony started to reply at the same time Peter hit the brakes on his crying to clap his hands together and exclaim, "Sing! Daddy sing! Sing!"
"Looks like the people have spoken." Said Happy smugly.
"Aww alright Petey Pie I can't say no to you." Said Tony ruffling Peter's curls. Then to Happy, "Curse you Hogan, turning my own flesh and blood against me. If you tell Rhodey or Pepper about this, I'm putting you on diaper duty for a month."
"I thought the kid was toilet trained already?" Happy answered confidently.
"Well what a wise-guy! I meant for my next kid, when he or she is still new to this world and going through about 50 diapers a day. I've got a really good memory too, so don't think I'll forget! Even if it's ten years from now before another lady—hopefully Pepper—agrees to let me be the father of her children. And hopefully this time it's not such a surprise, even though surprises can be amazing." Tony took a rare breath before continuing as he ran his fingers through Peter's hair once more. "Can't they kiddie? I'd love surprises if they all turned out to be as awesome as you. That's for sure. And you'd like to have a little brother or sister? Wouldn't you Petey? That'd be fun, right?"
Then before Happy (or Peter) had a chance to reply, Tony broke out into a solid rendition of Queen's 'We Are the Champions.'
Happy shook his head, trying to physically force himself back into the present, just as Peter quietly voiced what was on his mind. "We have to make a family tree for Spanish class."
Oh.
What a shitty project. Of course, it wouldn't be for most kids. It'd be simple really for kids that didn't have a dead father who happened to be Tony Stark, aka Iron Man. But for Peter . . . it would have to be a lie, or at least not the whole truth.
"And you can't include your father or your . . . grandparents." Or the little girl Pepper had miscarried just after she had started to show. That had been terrible everyone who'd she'd confided in—mainly just Rhodey and Happy—and even though she came out of it stronger than ever, Happy couldn't even imagine how it must have been for Pepper. How it must have felt like losing Tony all over again because that's sort of how it felt to him, and he certainly had no right to grieve as much as Pepper. The only saving grace was that at the time, no one had told Peter yet. Rhodey didn't tell him about it until years later, when the wound of losing his father wasn't so fresh.
"I can't even include Rhodey." Peter's voice pulled Happy from his memories. "Even though he adopted me forever ago, I can't use the Rhodes family because even that would draw too much attention." Peter answered bitterly.
Happy wished he could tell the kid to go ahead and put Rhodey on his family tree, along with Mrs. Rhodes and the rest of the Rhodes clan, but unfortunately, Peter was right. It wasn't technically a secret that Colonel Rhodes was Peter's adopted father, not the same way that it was secret that Peter was a Stark anyway. Rhodey's name was on all the necessary legal documents, but for things like school permission slips, he simply signed J. Rupert Rhodes in order to not draw attention to the fact that Iron Man's best friend suddenly acquired custody of a kid right Tony had died. And when it came to school functions, Rhodey attended as many as he could incognito, but more intimate interactions, like parent-teacher conferences or chaperoning school field trips, were left to Happy.
No, Rhodey wasn't 'Tony Stark' or even movie star famous, but as a high military ranking officer, Colonel Rhodes was still a public figure, even if he had taken a big step back from War Machine's previous responsibilities, especially when Peter was younger. But having Rhodey fully step out into the spotlight as Peter's guardian was not a chance either of them were willing to take, especially as the kid grew older and started to look more and more like his father.
"I'm sorry, kid." Happy finally replied because what else could he say?
"It's not your fault Happy. It's just not f-fair." Peter's voice cracked on the last word.
"Aw, kid." Happy said sympathetically.
"An-and if I do include him, it has to be a lie. Like I can put his first name, but I obviously can't do much more than that. I can't include a photo of him or Maria . . . or Howard. It'd be easier if I just put a question mark, and pretend that I don't know who my dad is, but we have to present in front of the class, so if I do that, then everyone"—Flash—"will make fun of me because I'm just a bastard—a mistake—who doesn't even know who his dad is."
"Hey! I don't want to hear that kind of talk from you kid. Ever. You know your dad didn't feel that way about you. You were the best thing that ever happened to him. You were a surprise, not a mistake."
"But I can't tell anyone else that. I c-can't—I j-just—I miss him." Peter finished and then came the waterworks.
Happy's heart ached for the kid. For Tony too. But Boss was just his friend. He was Peter's father. It wasn't the same kind of loss.
And also, what a stupid assignment. Maybe he should have Rhodey contact Peter's Spanish teacher and get her to at least not make the students present their family tree in front of their classmates. How messed up and potentially shame inducing was that? And besides, Peter hardly needed to spend time on such tedious tasks anyway. He was like a sponge, constantly absorbing information. Math and Engineering were easiest for the kid, but he wasn't idiot when it came to other subjects either.
If Rhodey had wanted to, he could have had Peter skipping grades long ago, and the kid would be in college by now. Many teachers had frequently recommended that Peter be moved up. But Tony made it very clear when he was alive that that's not something he wanted for Peter. He wanted his kid to have the childhood that Tony himself had missed out on—a normal one.
So Rhodey had placed Peter in the most challenging schools he could find, and let him study more advanced topics and tinker at his leisure, while still having a chance to make friends his own age and experience things like little league—though Peter had never been great at sports—sleepovers, school holiday parties, and all the other stuff that came with being a kid.
"Kid—" Happy started but Peter cut him off.
"S-sorry, Happy." Peter managed to say between tearful breaths. "I-I'll stop. I w-will. I know you don't like it when I cry. And it makes you uncomfortable. . . . I j-just n-need a second."
"Okay. Nope." Said Happy pulling the vehicle into the closest spot off of the main road, which happened to be an unloading zone in front of a hotel.
"W-what are you doing?" Peter asked confused as Happy drew the vehicle to a stop and placed one hand on the back of the passenger seat next to him, while he turned to face the boy in the back seat.
"Kid." When Peter only sniffled and kept his eyes trained on the ground in front of him, Happy continued. "Hey Pete, eyes on me."
Peter raised his head to meet Happy's gaze. When he looked up, Happy internally cringed at the sight of the kid's red eyes and tear stained face.
"Alright kid, let's get something straight. I don't like it when you cry, Peter, not because it makes me uncomfortable, but because I don't like it when you're upset. When you're unhappy, I'm unhappy. Got it?"
Slowly the kid nodded and wiped at his eyes with the back of his sleeve. But he still looked downright miserable.
"Okay." Happy said. Glad he had cleared that up. Then after a moment's pause he continued. "But full-disclosure, yea the tears also make me uncomfortable. I feel like I'm in the presence of a kicked puppy when you cry."
That got a little chuckle from Peter, which had been the goal, so point to Happy.
"But neither of those things are reasons not to cry. If you're upset, kid, then cry all you want. I just wish you weren't upset." He wished for that. He wished the kid's dad was here to comfort him, instead of Peter being stuck with Happy's half-ass attempt to do so. He wished so many things could be different. But since Tony was six feet underground (since Peter came along really), this was Happy's life now. Sometimes it involved a crying kid, but barring bringing Iron Man back to life, he wouldn't change it for the world.
"You gonna be okay kid?"
"Yea, thanks Happy." Peter replied a less shakily.
"It's what I'm here for mini-Boss." Said Happy as he turned back around and inched the car back into traffic.
"Hey, Happy?"
"Yea, kid?"
"How can you be un-Happy? That shouldn't be possible. It's literally your name, or well, nickname, but it's not like anyone calls you Harold."
Jeez. This kid. He'd die for him. . . . even if, in addition to being a selfless little shit, he was a sassy one too.
"You're a real comedian, you know that Junior?"
Peter just grinned when Happy glanced back at him quickly, which was a nice change from the tears.
"So, how 'bout a pick-me-up kid. You want a snack or something before I take you home?"
There was a pause as Peter considered his reply. "It's not really a snack . . . but . . . can we get cheeseburgers?" he asked finally.
It was a simple request. One that wouldn't have been remarkable if anyone else had asked, and maybe on another day, Happy wouldn't have been reminded of that day. But it was Peter—Peter Stark—who had asked. And with emotions already running high in the vehicle, Happy couldn't quite manage to keep his voice even when he responded.
"Y-yea. Sure kiddo. W-we can get ch-cheeseburgers. However many you want."
Without even looking back, Happy knew that Peter was staring at the back of his head intensely. His head was probably tilted to the side as it usually was when he was contemplating something, like a puppy would.
"I did it again, didn't I?" asked Peter softly. "I reminded you of him. . . . My dad, I mean."
For a moment, Happy considered denying it, just because he was afraid it might send the kid back to tears, but in the end he decided with the truth, while he reached over to put his sunglasses on before the kid could see that his eyes were watering. "Yea, kid. You did. Your dad . . . he liked cheeseburgers too. It—it was the first thing he wanted after he got back from Afghanistan . . . "
"Oh. I didn't know that . . . I'm sorry. I didn't mean to . . . remind of him. I never mean to do that." Peter said sadly.
"Don't ever apologize for reminding me of your dad, kid." Said Happy taking his eyes of the road for what was probably a dangerous amount of time, just so he could look the kid in the eyes again.
Peter reminded Happy of Tony every day—in the way he got excited about science and technology, in how he forgot to eat or sleep because he was working on something, in how he stumbled around in the morning like a zombie because Rhodey refused to let him have coffee, even just in the color of his eyes or the shape of his jaw. And yea, sometimes it hurt. But he'd rather have it hurt than not have the reminder at all.
"I'm glad you remind me of him." Happy added finally.
There was silence between them for a moment and then . . .
"Happy, are you crying?" Peter asked incredulously.
"No. I don't know what you're talking about, kid. There's just something in my eye. I'm made of stone, remember?"
"Whatever you say, Happy." Said Peter and when Happy looked in the review mirror, the kid was looking out the window again, but this time he was smiling, which made Happy crack a grin as well despite the lingering liquid in his eyes from his nonexistent allergies.
"So. Cheeseburgers?"
"Cheeseburgers." Peter agreed. "And fries."
{Author's Note: A few notes: One, the stuffed elephant is named for the elephant in Tarzan. Two, the cheeseburger discussion is obviously based pretty closely on that scene in Endgame.
Lastly, my head canon for this series is that Peter was conceived right before Tony was captured in Afghanistan, so he didn't know about Peter until after the events of Iron Man. I know the timeline doesn't really work, but just go with it.}
