Peter Parker lay in a pillowed basket, wrapped in a pale orange towel, content. He was wholly unaware that in the short time he'd been in this world he'd already lost everything. His eyes were still shut. He wrinkled his nose, yawned, stretched; he could do with some sleep. It'd been a long day. In close vicinity to him, he could hear the voices of two people he didn't recognize.

Pepper had been the one to find the basket. It was wicker, and had been a gift basket before she'd swiftly emptied it and placed quite a flimsy pillow inside. Pepper had also been the one to take Peter from his mother's stiff arms—the poor boy hadn't ceased crying until she swaddled him up in a towel she'd fished from the linen closet. Once he was settled in the basket and Pepper was able to get a good look at him, she realized he was quite cute. He had wisps of brown hair atop his head, pouty lips, and a little button nose. As for his looks, she couldn't say who he resembled, as she had seen Mary for all of two minutes and had only heard Richard Parker's name.

Tony hadn't picked Peter up. In fact, after Mary had passed, he'd simply sat and stared at the boy, unable to do anything that might console his crying. It wasn't much different after Pepper had swaddled him up and placed him in a basket. Tony stood in front of the basket, index finger curled in front of his lips. Peter… Peter Benjamin, as Mary had named him. No doubt after Ben Parker. Tony hadn't been aware that Richard and Ben were close enough to warrant naming their children after one another. The baby didn't necessarily look like either Mary or Richard. Then again, most babies didn't look like much of anything when they were born. The fact that a small human lying in a basket was the last remnant of Mary Parker was—

"Who was she?" Pepper interrupted.

Tony let his hand drop away from his mouth, turning his attention to his assistant. "What?" he questioned, though his voice was lacking a tone.

"Who was she?" Pepper repeated. "You said she was an old friend, but she seemed…" Pepper trailed off.

"No." Tony dismissed the implication. "No, it wasn't like that. I was close to Mary and Richard in college."

"Oh."

Following this revelation, the two were silent. Both watched the sleeping baby boy. Peter did not seem to mind this; he napped peacefully, sticking out his lower lip while he slept.

The remainder of March 1st would end up being persistently traumatic in Tony's memory. He had called an ambulance after Mary had stopped breathing, holding onto the smallest bit of hope that maybe she could be resuscitated, make a recovery, raise her baby boy. But just as J.A.R.V.I.S. had predicted, all injuries she'd suffered were fatal, and at the time medical personnel arrived at the mansion there was nothing they could do for Mary but carry her out in a body bag. Tony had been there when they'd lifted her from the tub—her once-vibrant gray eyes were now blank and glassy. Tony knew the look of them would haunt them for the rest of his life.

The paramedics had looked at little Peter but found nothing wrong with him. He was extremely lucky in that regard—the smallest thing could've gone wrong, and all of Mary's work would've been for nothing. What if Peter hadn't been breathing when he was born? It wasn't as if Tony could help him, and the risk Mary had taken to keep him safe would've been in vain. Mary would be dead and so would the last thing Tony had left of her. But it was pointless to wonder about it. Peter was alive and Mary wasn't, and from the looks of it Peter was alright.

The paramedics had left, a police report had been filed, pictures had been taken of the bathroom, and Tony had handed over the security footage featuring Mary. Pepper and Tony were alone with Peter, and both grossly unprepared to care for him. For the moment Peter was content, but they knew that wouldn't last for long.

Tony rubbed circles into his temples with his forefingers. He hadn't yet adjusted to the situation, at least not fully. There was a baby in front of him—that was easy to understand. That baby was Mary and Richard Parker's baby—a bit strange, but not too much of a stretch for him to grasp. Richard and Mary Parker had died and their baby was now in his possession—that's what seemed to be tripping Tony up the most. An hour ago he'd been in his workshop without a care in the world, and now he'd seen Mary Parker die and her baby son orphaned. It was too much to process all at once.

"Pepper," Tony started, though quickly realized he had no idea where the sentence was going from there. After a brief pause that left him stuttering for what he was going to say next, he said, "I will pay you triple overtime for you to go out and buy the kid whatever he needs."

Pepper's voice came quiet as she kept her eyes on Peter. "Like what?"

"Like what—?" Tony threw his arms out in unknowing, palms turned upwards. "I don't know! Clothes? Diapers? He's sitting here wrapped in a towel," he gestured to Peter as he spoke the words. "I don't know what to do with him, Pep, I'm—"

"Okay, alright, I'll go." Pepper took a step away from Tony and the baby.

This left Peter alone with Tony. Neither seemed to know what to do with the other, though in Peter's defense he was—in addition to being unaware of his surroundings—in the middle of a nap. Tony only paced a few feet in front of the basket, fingers curled in front of his mouth as he kept an eye on the boy. Peter was grunting quietly in his sleep, his upper lip twitching slightly.

Tony had yet to hold the boy—he hadn't so much as touched him, and wasn't planning on doing so any time soon. It wasn't as if he disliked the boy or anything of that sort. His reasoning for this was a strange mixture of simply not wanting to and feeling that it would be wrong to do so. He shouldn't have been the one responsible for the boy: that should've been May and Ben, his own family, not someone who knew his parents once-upon-a-time in the good old days…

Peter remained content for short while. At the point in which the baby started to cry, Tony had taken a seat across the room from the basket, but had yet to take his eyes off it. His attention snapped to Peter with the boy's first whine, Tony freezing in place as if him sitting still would prevent the boy from bursting into tears. Peter began to wail just as he had when he was first born, the kind of inconsolable cry only displayed by newborn babies. Tony pushed himself to his feet before taking slow steps towards the baby.

Peter was fighting against the loosely swaddled towel, pushing his arms outwards in attempt to free himself. Tony's first thought was to call Pepper.

"Tony?" Pepper's tone was concerned on the other end of the line. "What's wrong? Did something happen to Peter?"

"He's crying," Tony responded.

Pepper paused for a moment. "That's all?" she questioned, an ounce of irritation entering her voice. "Tony, pick him up! He's probably lonely."

Tony shook his head. "Can't do that."

"Tony," Pepper sighed, her patience clearly wearing thin. "You can't just leave him there and let him cry. He'll start to think that no one is coming to take care of him. They've done studies, babies who don't get held grow up without emotions, and they end up becoming criminals and psychopaths, and I really don't think that's what Mary had in mind for her son—"

"Alright," Tony cut her off, eyes still fixed on the crying baby. "Okay. I'll pick him up."

Tony promptly hung up the phone, giving the boy his full attention. Peter was flailing desperately in his basket, rocking from left to right atop the pillow. Tony reached for him, hesitated for a moment or so, and then picked the baby up. Peter stopped struggling against the towel, and his crying lessened a small amount, as if he were confused at having actually been picked up.

"Hey, hey," Tony said, bouncing the boy a little. "Hey. Don't cry."

The baby, not understanding the implication of the words, continued to cry.

"Hey, hey, hey. Shh." Tony wasn't exactly sure what to say to the baby to calm him down. Obviously Peter would have no idea what he was saying, so what good was it going to do? But Tony continued to speak to him anyway.

Peter, still not completely content, continued to whine and squirm in Tony's arms. It wasn't until Peter reached out and gripped onto one of Tony's fingers by chance that he quieted. It was as if he finally realized that he was in the company of another person and in his head said, 'oh. Alright then'. Tony had to admit that when the baby wasn't crying, he was quite cute. Peter closed his eyes and buried his head near his blanket, concealing his mouth. Tony watched the boy, willing him to remain quiet and happy and sleepy.

When Pepper returned to the Malibu mansion, she was greeted by the sight of a sleeping baby boy swaddled protectively in a dozing Tony Stark's arms.

It didn't take long for baby Peter to become comfortable in his home. Well, his temporary home, as Tony insisted. Nevertheless, Pepper had not disappointed when she'd shopped for the boy, bringing home everything he could possibly need. Stark mansion was looking less like the home of an inventor and more like the residence of a frazzled, extremely unprepared new parent. The ground floor was littered with impossibly tiny clothes, stuffed toys, baby blankets, used bottles with dribbles of formula collecting at the bottom, and countless other items that Tony had no idea the boy would even need.

Peter didn't really do much. This shouldn't have surprised Tony; it wasn't as if the boy was capable of doing anything but sleeping and eating, and yet the baby took up the majority of he and Pepper's time. Peter enjoyed his swing; someone—usually Pepper—would swaddle the boy up and turn the swing on low, and this would buy Tony a chunk of time that was usually large enough to fine tune the details of his latest projects.

Tony kept the firm mentality that Peter was not going to be living with him permanently. Had Mary not looked him in the eyes during her last moments of life and begged him to keep her son safe, he would've handed the boy over to Ben and May immediately. There was a nagging thought at the back of Tony's head, eating away no matter how much he threw himself into his work: what if he were to send the boy to his aunt and uncle, and Hydra were to find him? What if Mary was right in her assumption that they would come after him? He couldn't send the boy to May and Ben only to have him die—he didn't need that on his conscience. This left him in a perpetual state of uncertainty of what would happen to the boy. Despite the fact that Tony only viewed Peter as a temporary resident, it could be more than possible that the boy would stay indefinitely.

Peter—more commonly known as 'the boy' or 'the baby', to Tony, at least—had become quite attached to Pepper within his first few weeks at the mansion. Perhaps it was because he mistook her for Mary, or maybe it was just because she'd become a maternal presence in his life. Nevertheless the feeling seemed to be mutual.

"Hey, Pep?" Tony had asked upon entering the ground level one morning to find her tapping away on the keyboard of her laptop.

"Yes?" she responded, her eyes not even leaving the screen of her computer.

"It seems like you've got a tiny human stuck to you."

Pepper briefly peered down at her chest. Peter was resting in a powdery green sling, grunting happily and sticking his chubby fists in his mouth. After seeing that Peter was alright, her attention returned to her work.

"It's good for them to be held, and to be close to people," she informed, again without turning her attention away from the computer. "I read about it. Mothers usually do skin to skin, but since Mary never got the chance, I figured this would be the next best thing." Pepper paused for a moment, her fingers doing the same at the keys. "Not exactly skin to skin, but it's better than leaving him in a swing all day."

Though her tone sounded indifferent, Tony saw through this. He gave a short laugh at the idea that Pepper was becoming attached to Peter. "Well, he seems to enjoy it," Tony pointed out, and then disappeared into the lab.

Pepper did more of the parenting to Peter than Tony. It had been Pepper's idea to keep a record of Peter, to take photos of him nearly every day and to store them in a folder in J.A.R.V.I.S' systems (to transfer over to Ben and May when the time came, she justified). Even with her workload, she made sure that Peter received the proper attention and that he was developing accordingly.

"You know," Pepper started one morning when their paths happened to cross. "You should really spend more time with him."

Tony poured himself a mug of coffee without making eye contact. "I'm not kid-friendly."

"Tony, Mary wanted you to look after him. You hardly ever come in to see him. I know that I'm your personal assistant but I didn't sign up to be parenting a child here."

"Don't act like you don't enjoy it."

Pepper rolled her eyes. "That's not the point. Tony, I have other things to worry about. I cannot be at this house 24/7, and it's obvious that you're not going to hand him over to Ben and May anytime soon. What do you do when I'm not here?"

Though he didn't say, Tony knew Pepper was right. When Pepper was at the house he handed Peter over without question, relieved to have someone else looking after him. He did look after Peter when Pepper wasn't there—he kept the baby within close proximity to himself, glancing over at him at least five times a minute. He may not have been good with children, or have any idea how to interact with them, but the boy was the last living bit of Mary Fitzpatrick. Nothing bad was going to happen to him on Tony's watch.

"Relax," Tony said before taking a sip of his coffee. "I take good care of him. And Dum-E's a good babysitter when he needs to be."

"You have Dum-E look after Peter?" Pepper asked incredulously.

"He just watches him, he lets me know if he starts crying, it's not like I have him pick him up or anything—"

"I can't believe you—"

Peter interrupted both of them with a coo, as if he was attempting to join the conversation. At the time he was resting in a bouncer in close proximity to where Pepper was standing. This seemed to effectively end their conversation. Peter seemed to be happy no matter who was looking after him.

Pepper sighed. "I have to go," she said. "Look after Peter. Don't just stick him on Dum-E. Hold him, talk to him… try not to stay up the whole night working on anything."

"Hey, I was sleep-deprived before Peter came along," Tony pointed out.

Pepper ignored this comment. "Just take care of him, will you?"

"Will do."

With that, Tony was left alone with Peter yet again.