Tony Stark just barely fit in his son's race car bed. He lay on his side with his elbow in the pillow, his hand propping up his head. His body was bent into a crescent, creating an inadvertent sanctuary around his child. Tony's brown eyes never left the dimly lit face of his son. The soft blue light from his chest glowed gently and reflected in the boy's sleepy eyes. Little Michael lay on his back, both his small hands folded on his stomach. Quiet questions and quiet answers moved peacefully between father and son. This little ritual always served to assure Michael that he was very very safe and that his dream was very very over. He had gone into his parent's room seeking safety from the bad dream, but both Pepper and Tony didn't allow him to sleep with them. They did not want his ability to get back to sleep being dependent on them getting kicked repeatedly. He was not a still sleeper. But, Tony would always take him back to his own room and stay until he was sleeping. Pepper fully understood Tony's need to comfort his son. He'd known enough of his own nightmares. His son would not face bad dreams alone. This night, like on any other occasion with bad dreams or thunder storms, (Not too common. As often as with any other 3 year old), Tony had gotten out of bed to take Michael back to his room.

By now, sleep was washing over the little bot. Their secret conversation was trailing off.

"Daddy."

He moved a hand over to Tony's t-shirt. His fingers made a dull tapping sound on the reactor.

"Hm?"

"You can't turn off the night light?"

He knew the answer, but he always asked.

"I can't turn it off, buddy. It keeps me alive."

"Good." the boy whispered. Then he yawned.

Tony's fingers continuously stroked the wild reddish blond hair off his son's forehead.

"I love you, munchkin." Tony whispered as well.

Michael breathed a deep, sleep filled breath. His head leaned to the side and in a moment he was asleep.

Tony gave it a couple of minutes just to be sure Michael was indeed asleep for keeps. Once he felt certain that this was the case, he lifted himself out of the tiny bed as gingerly as he could. It was loud. Michael's eyes opened. He sighed, moved, then they shut again. He was asleep.

Tony leaned down to kiss his son's head.

"Sleep well, Iron Man." With that he slipped out the door, the soft blue glow in the room receding with him.