In his workshop, Tony Stark was hunched over a table, the Scarlet Witch was standing at his shoulder, saying. Something. He wasn't really listening. "Tony," Wanda spoke his name for the third time, her voice one of impatience. "Tony, I need to talk to you."
Tony was too entranced in his project to look up from his work table, eyes on a delicate circuit board, mind on a million other things probably a million times more important than whatever Wanda had to say. Or not, judging by her tone as she announced with exasperation that she really needed to talk to him, right this second. He made a gesture for her to continue, gaze still riveted to the electronics below his fingers. Wanda was quiet for a long moment before she said, faintly, "Tony, I'm pregnant."
Tony blinked. Swallowed. Processed the information. He said nothing. "It's- they're yours," she pressed, her voice cautious, "Twins." Still processing. Tweak this wire. Careful now, don't want to break it. Wanda sounded a little irritated now when she said, "I don't expect anything from you. Not money or, well, anything. I can handle it. I just, thought you should know." If Tony had looked up then he would have seen the frantic way that Wanda was staring at him. He guessed that he was supposed to give some answer. Well. "Good," he murmured, feigning continued distraction. "Good?" Wanda's voice echoed, incredulous. "Yep," he answered, and it was clear he intended to say nothing more. "Fine, good," he heard Wanda mutter before she turned and fled the workshop, slamming the door behind her.
It was impossible. Tony was almost certain that he was sterile. With everything he'd been through, and the Extremis, Tony just assumed his sterility and never gave birth control a second thought. Add to the equation that Wanda was on the pill and it made everything a whole new level of unlikely. Of course, he'd also failed to factor in that the very nature of Wanda's mutant ability was the manipulation of probability. For all he knew this could be some terrible and unconscious side affect of her power.
Still, even if he didn't want to believe it, Wanda wasn't going to drop a bomb like this unless she was certain. Maybe the things Wanda said about not wanting his help weren't true. He couldn't think why she might lie, but it was possible. He needed to ask someone who knew her better than he did. Her brother was not an option- Pietro would probably want to kill him when he found out. He supposed there was always Nick. Fury knew both of them rather well and his perspective would prove, if not helpful, at the very least entertaining. He pulled out his phone and placed a call and, forty minutes later, he and Nick sat in a little corner booth in a sports bar with a plate of hot wings between them. Fury nursed a beer and a grim expression. At first, to Tony's chagrin, Fury'd laughed at him. "That's what you get for not wearing a cock sock!" But when Tony informed him that Wanda was on birth control he was properly sobered and sympathized that it was the nature of the beast, to fuck a gal who used magic. The rest of the conversation meandered and Nick listened while Tony talked, only giving his input on the fact that he was sure Wanda meant what she said about not wanting help. But that didn't mean that Tony didn't still have a decision to make.
Nick took a swig from his bottle and stared, his eyes gleaming shrewdly. "You know, Stark, most motherfuckers in your position don't get a choice. You've got the advantage of a classy bitch having your children." That was true, Tony supposed. Most women wouldn't act so rationally about something so big, and while he couldn't guarantee that Wanda wouldn't change her mind, he was fairly certain that she wouldn't. He was fairly certain she would carry on, alone, if she had to. It reminded him of his own family- a brilliant absent father and his mother raising him as best as she could, alone. "Doesn't seem fair to her, to do it by herself," Tony muttered. It wasn't a decision on his part, it was just a fact that needed to be stated. Tony dealt in facts, he analyzed them, he understood them. In the midst of this new chaotic discovery, all he had were facts. Nick snorted and smacked his palm on the table. "You think she'll be on her own?" he asked, incredulously, "She's got her brother. She's got me. She's got people. No, Stark, the question here isn't whether or not you think it's fair for her to do this. The question, motherfucker, is whether or not you want to be a father."
Did he? Tony didn't know. He'd never had a chance to consider it before. He found his thoughts turning to what the children would look like. More like himself or more like Wanda? His darker hair or hers tinged with auburn? His little smirk or her beguiling smile? Her chin? His nose? Her porcelain pale skin? His deep cobalt eyes or her brighter shade of baby blue? Maybe they would be like kids who didn't take after either of their parents but instead looked like other family members. Maybe they would look like their grandparents. Could he bear to look into his mother's face everyday? His father's? If Wanda stayed with the Avengers and kept her children's paternity a secret, could he face them- could he face Wanda- and perpetuate such a huge lie? He knew her well enough to imagine what she would tell them about their father while they were young. Your father was a prince, a knight in shining armor, a hero. If Tony were telling the story it might go a little differently. Once upon a time the heroic princely knight met a scarlet princess who fell for him and he really didn't deserve her maybe and they had a nice thing going and all until he knocked her up but she was okay with it and there were other damsels he needed to rescue and he had some daddy issues of his own, so sorry for not being around, but you wouldn't want that prince for your father anyway.
While Tony mired himself in indecision and self-loathing, Nick regarded him silently and, when he was finished with his beer, gave Tony's shoulder a squeeze and then left. So Tony was on his own with this one. No one was going to tell him what to do and even if they did he didn't want to listen. Pepper would disapprove, Clint would be bitter, Pietro might try to kill him. Then there was Steve. Tony knew just what Steve would do in this situation. Steve would step up and take responsibility and be a father and be a man and be Captain fucking America with a wife and 2.5 children and the cookie cutter house in the suburbs where he'd live out the American dream. But Steve would never have put himself in this situation in the first place and Tony would never have the courage to be the kind of man that Steve Rogers was. If he asked his advice, he would get congratulations and then be told to buck up and do what was right. Well maybe what was right to Captain America and to Pepper and to Clint- who cared, he was just jealous anyway- and to Pietro and to Nick wasn't what was right to Tony Stark. Tony Stark had no idea what was right. And he still didn't know if he wanted to be a father.
Returned to his car, Tony slid into the back and rested his head against the seat, eyes closed. "Tower, Happy," he instructed and his driver and bodyguard immediately put the car into gear. Tony could feel Happy watching him, eyes in the rearview mirror, and when he glanced up to catch his gaze Happy didn't look away. "S'amatter boss?" he asked and Tony sighed.
"Oh, same old, same old, Hap. Got Wanda pregnant and now it's like everyone's expecting a shot gun wedding and a happily ever after. You know, this is exactly the kind of thing Mom was trying to avoid when she made me take ballroom dancing," he grumbled with his usual share of sarcasm. Happy didn't answer, he just watched Tony in the rear view mirror and waited and eventually his expectations were rewarded with a quiet question. "Happy, I know you and Pepper were trying for kids but how did you know you wanted it? What made you want to be a father?"
"I don't know," Happy answered honestly and Tony gave a hopeless laugh, "But it's not so much about kids for me-"
He was interrupted by Tony's, "Well it's a bit more responsibility than having a dog, Hap."
"-it's about how much I love Pepper," he finished and shook his head. "It's like this, I dunno, physical living proof of our love. This thing we created. Together. And yeah, it's a lot of responsibility. But what in life isn't? You run a billion dollar company," he pointed out and Tony just shrugged with nonchalance. "Sometimes you've just got to stop and ask yourself how long you want to be alone. I've got Pepper and if I had a kid I'd know my name would live on and that if we don't mess up, our kid will be there for us, and maybe it'll have kids and there'll always be this legacy that began because I loved Pepper."
Tony was frowning, contemplative. "Yeah but what about that messing up part? Pretty big thing to mess up."
"Boss, you save the world, all the time. What's raising a kid compared to that? You screw up somewhere, at least you know you can pay for therapy." They both laughed and Tony grew silently introspective. Maybe Happy sort of had a point. The idea of creating these things, these people, these lives with Wanda had a certain charm to it. And he was in charge of a multi-billion dollar company and he did save the earth from super threats all the time. How bad could parenting be?
When he reached the tower he debated going to his workshop or just trying to get some sleep. He'd decided on the latter and was making his way towards his room when he was paused by the sight of a figure out on one of the balconies. Tony stepped outside and peered into the darkness at the costume-clad Cassie Lang perched precariously on the balcony's railing. "You're out late," he remarked in greeting to the teenager who turned a smirk to him as he approached.
"Gonna rat me out?" she asked with a laugh as he looked her over with a frown in the dim light. There was a bleeding slice on her cheek beneath her mask. "I was out with Peter, doing a little spring cleaning in the dirty parts of the city," she explained by way of explanation and Tony rolled his eyes at her metaphor. She was hanging around that smart-ass Parker way too much. "Looks like you had a hot date," he deadpanned and fished a handkerchief from a pocket to dab the blood from her face. "Oh yeah, nothing more romantic than getting in a fight with a street gang," she quipped and remained obediently still until he was finished cleaning off her wound. He passed her the handkerchief and she pressed it to the cut and stared at him in curiosity. "You're home early though. I mean, for you."
"Long day. I might actually go to bed," he answered, as surprised at the idea as she seemed to be. Cassie nodded and shrugged and still Tony lingered, breathing in the cool night air and staring out at the glittering skyline. "Do you blame your mom?" he asked abruptly and moved to lean against the balcony beside her, studying her masked face in the reflected city lights. Cassie swiveled around to stare at him in question but before she could ask he barreled on, "For messing things up for you? For being overprotective and getting remarried, or whatever, do you hate her?"
It was several moments before Cassie answered, shaking her head, uncertain, "No, I-" Tony interrupted her, waving his fingers to illustrate his point. "Because I think I get it," he explained, "For all her faults, Peggy just wanted what was best for you. She was so worried about your health. I can understand it." He paused finally and waited for the willful argument he expected from the teen who, to his surprise, nodded in agreement.
"Yeah I know. The older I get the more I can see where she's coming from. I want to believe that even if she disapproved, maybe she's proud of me, you know? Like, shouldn't she be? No matter what your kids do, they're still your kids. You've still got to love them."
For all that she'd had such a dysfunctional childhood, Tony thought Cassie had turned out just fine. Better than fine, she was a teenaged super hero. He was proud of her and he too wanted to think Scott would have been, that Peggy was. "They did a good job with you, your parents," he said softly, "I just wonder if I could too."
"Could what?" Cassie asked, head tilted inquisitively.
"Be a good parent. A good father," he admitted, more to himself than to her. Even if he didn't think he could be a good father, he was suddenly sure that he would love his children. And if they turned out to be even half as good as Cassie Lang was, he would be proud of them. Hell, he would be proud of them anyway, because they were his kids. And they needed that. They needed a father; they shouldn't have to grow up like he had, knowing their father existed but didn't care about them and wondering if maybe they just weren't good enough for him. He would be ten times the father that Howard Stark was.
"For what it's worth, Tony, I think you'd be a great dad," Cassie said with a grin before she turned her eyes back to the view of the city. Tony felt his mouth turn up in a smile and he stared at Cassie for a quiet minute before slipping back inside.
In the tower, Tony changed his destination from his own bedroom to Wanda's. He pushed the door open quietly and crept in to sit on the edge of Wanda's bed and watch her sleep, a ray of light through the window illuminating her face. She gave a sleepy groan and her eyes fluttered open and Tony felt something twist in his chest. God, he hoped they got her eyes. For the few moments before she was fully awake Wanda smiled at him sweetly but soon her countenance clouded over as she remembered their conversation earlier in the day. She frowned at him as she sat up in bed. "What is it?" she questioned but Tony quieted her with a soft shush while he bent over and kissed her stomach twice, one for each of his kids. He left a trail, pushing the hem of her nightshirt up as he went, kisses up her chest to her sternum, on her neck, her ear, her cheek and finally he paused his lips for a long while at her mouth.
When he moved away she was smiling, bemused, and he couldn't resist the urge to press in for another kiss before announcing, breathlessly, "I want in. I want in on this, parenting, thing." He gestured vaguely, as if the notion were some half-formed novel idea for a future project. Maybe it would be the greatest project of his life, like building a new suit and inputting data and programming except here he was raising a little copy of himself and inputting knowledge and programming life skills. It couldn't be that hard, right? And if he fucked one up, well, there were two of them and with Wanda there to balance it out perhaps she could work as a fail safe to correct the damage. He explained all of this to her in a babbling rush with the same exuberance he had whenever he pitched a new design at a board meeting. When Tony finished Wanda was laughing and she reached out and ran her fingers affectionately through his hair. Tony kicked off his shoes and then crawled into the bed next to her, opening his arms to embrace her.
"Do you think we'll be good parents?" Wanda asked softly as she settled herself against him. Tony looked thoughtful for a moment. Her father was a genocidal megalomaniac and his was a callous judgmental bastard, so he understood why she'd worry. Still, there were always worse parents out there, and at this particular thought Tony broke into a chuckle. "Well," he answered wryly, "We can't be any worse than Sue and Reed Richards."