The compound was finally full, barely ever quiet and filled with as much as small talk to dick jokes. Sure, they still hadn't completely warmed up to each other (he and Steve only spoke when necessary), but it was good to have company. Especially not that Peter, an official Avenger, was here as well. May had been supportive of him, and Tony was so glad.
After he had finally cleared up the Accords and the rogue Avengers returned, Tony downed a few bottles of vodka. He didn't care that he had been sober for so long, the stress and aftermath of the feud had taken it's toll on him and he needed an escape from reality. He didn't care about the inevitable hangover afterwards.
He was sitting in his workshop, fiddling with his gadgets and on his fifth bottle when he heard the door open. He whipped around, mind hazy and pupils dilated. A short boy with brown curls stood at the entrance awkwardly. Who was he?
"Um, hey, Mr. Stark. I was wondering if um, we could hang out? Maybe have a movie night today, or-" Tony scoffed and turned his back to the kid. The kid. Peter. That was his name. He wanted a movie night?
"Kid, I'm trying to work. I don't have time for this," Tony lifted the bottle to his mouth, gulping as Peter watched him with concerned eyes. He probably reeked of alcohol. He was obviously drunk, and couldn't help the harsh words flying from his throat. "Close the door on your way out."
Peter cleared his throat, forcing Tony to look over his shoulder at the approaching boy.
"Mr. Stark, you're drinking too much-" Tony swiveled his chair in a 180, standing up and pressing his face into Peter's. Why was he so aggressive? Did this happen everytime he was drunk? No, he was much more stable, more... drunk. He would apologize to Peter the next morning after his initial hangover.
"I'll drink as much as I want,kid. Since when has fifteen year old teenagers told me what to do? 'Cause I don't remember that part of the job." Peter shrinked back a bit when Tony poked him a bit too hard in the ribs, but he continued nonetheless. "We want to help you." The kid was right, he was drinking too much. But his thoughts and his body were completely uncoordinated as he yanked the bottle up and chugged the rest of its contents. Peter's eyes darted from the bottle and back to Tony, a new found determination sparking through his pupils.
"Mr. Stark, this isn't healthy. You can let out your stress by hanging out with the rest of the Avengers. You don't need to drink your life away." Tony couldn't agree more, infuriated with his uncooperating body as he spoke anything but his mind.
"I put in my precious time and effort into the Accords, fixing them and cleaning up after Cap's mistakes. I deserve a good drink once in a while, and I've said how many times that I don't need some wannabe hero in pajamas to mother hen me!" This time, the hurt was evident on Peter's face, flashing through his features at the insult. Tony wanted to embrace him tightly, ensure him that he didn't mean it. But all he could do was glare into those brown bambi orbs, quivering with uncertainty, betrayal and determination.
"I know, you've been working really hard and you should be proud, but-" By this point Tony's drunken state had had enough, Tony moving right back into Peter's face, noses almost touching. Peter froze, the two staring each other down.
"Shut up." Tony thought Peter would've laughed at the half assed response, but his gaze only hardened.
"Mr. Stark-" Tony slammed his fist on the wall behind Peter, forcing a flinch out of the boy.
"No, zip it! Everyday you've been a fucking burden, whining and pissing about every little thing," Peter's eyes widened, tears pricking at the edges. Oh God. Couldn't he just shut up? "How did May put up with your shit? You think you have authority over me? Just who the hell do you think you are?" Peter gulped.
"I-I don't-" Tony didn't give him a chance to defend himself, spitting venom at the boy. The poor boy who was just asking for a movie night, wanting to spend time with his father figure-
"Cut the bullshit, Parker. The only reason you live here if because you'd be dead by now without my protection. One would only imagine you'd be fucking grateful for once!"
"W-Wh-?"
"I said shut the fuck up, Peter!" Tony roared, while 'inner' Tony screamed as his own hand came down on Peter's- his son's cheek. The force sent the boy's head snapping to the side, an angry red handprint making its way onto his skin. And finally, Tony's face softened in horror and he backed away, raising his hands in surrender as the boy's tears dripped to the floor. He gave Tony a terribly solemn expression, before looking down again.
"Peter, I-" Peter was the one who cut him off this time, turning around and about to run from the workshop, the compound, Tony."I'm sorry, Mr. Stark... whatever I did to you, I'm sorry." He bolted out of the door in inhumane speed, leaving Tony to crumple to the ground and sob into his open hands. He was just like his father. He had hit a child. He had degraded him, insulting him, making him feel like nothing. He was just a kid.
He was just a kid.Tony couldn't bring himself to drink after the incident. He tossed the three leftover bottles directly into his trash bin, and took a seat on his chair, letting out a shaky sigh. He had fucked up,he'd screwed the fucking pooch. The same question rang through his head like a mantra, chanting.
How could you?And he couldn't answer that question, because he had no answer. He'd let himself go; He'd allowed himself to succumb to the depths of drunkeness. He'd failed to protect Peter.
And now, Peter was gone.
