I was asked to outline my update schedule for this story, so here it is: new chapters go up on Wednesdays and Saturdays, and occasionally also on Monday if I want to speed the story along. There will be 41 chapters total.
Chapter 20: The Falcon's Nest
Apparently a resolved Code Silver did nothing to affect their curfew, so Happy mandated everyone return to their rooms at eight in the evening, despite staunch protests. Parker was still reluctant to leave Tony's side, so he walked the younger boy to his room and reminded him he was always welcome to seek him out should he need anything.
"Thanks," Parker mumbled. He still hadn't spoken a full sentence or at full volume since the incident, but he also hadn't retreated any further into himself, which Tony viewed as a good sign.
"You're welcome. Good night," Tony replied before heading back to his own room. Man, what a day. What a couple of days, more accurately. Clint's scans and the confrontation between Tony and his father had occurred only yesterday. It was hard to believe. Tony knew he ought to consider getting some sleep, but his brain refused to quiet long enough for him to settle down. He couldn't turn in while there were still so many things to worry about.
Clint's scan results hadn't come back yet. Or if they had, he hadn't shared them. Possibly he was planning to before their afternoon was derailed by the gun threat. What Bruce had said about Tony's relationship with his father also stuck in his head and refused to fade: "Your dad looks at you like you don't deserve to be alive? That's concerning." Until that comment, Tony hadn't thought much of his father's treatment of him. Sure, he wasn't the most caring or involved dad, but he wasn't physically abusive or anything like that. It could certainly be much worse.
But he had to admit the lack of response to his apology text had stung. Maybe he'd work up the courage to confront Howard about it next time they met in person, whenever that happened. Hospital security would likely increase dramatically for the foreseeable future until the paranoia died down. But most importantly, he worried about Rhodes. He trusted Strange's capabilities as a surgeon, but what if the injury proved beyond his skills? Not even the best surgeon in the world could fix certain issues, especially where the spinal cord was involved. If Rhodes was paralyzed, how would that impact his career? He'd still be able to work as a cardiologist after he recovered…right?
Sleep eluded him for another two hours after he usually passed out for the night. He couldn't hear anything from his shared wall with Steve, so either he was asleep or silently doing some other activity. Tony hoped he managed to sleep. He hoped he was the only one unable to fall asleep, although he doubted the stress of the day would lend itself to a restful night for all of them. A few minutes later, a knock at his door proved his point. He stood up and crept to the door, opening it slowly so as not to make any noise. Parker stood in the hallway, wrapped up in an old sweatshirt that dwarfed his small frame and clutching a stuffed Chewbacca to his chest.
"Can't sleep?" Tony asked knowingly. Parker shook his head, and Tony stepped back to invite him inside. He shuffled in meekly and sat down on the foot of the bed. Tony sat by the head and turned to face him, concerned by the tear tracks staining his face and the redness of his eyes.
"Do you want to talk, or do you just need the company?" Parker opened his mouth to answer, but quickly closed it again. He shook his head and hugged the toy even tighter. "Could you pass me Jarvis, then?" Tony requested. The bear sat behind Parker, far out of Tony's reach. He passed it forward with trembling hands, and Tony accepted. Several minutes elapsed in silence before Parker finally spoke up.
"I'm sorry for freaking out," he mumbled solemnly. Tony's heart shuddered at the sheer amount of misery conveyed in his tone.
"You have nothing to apologize for," Tony assured him. "That was really scary; I was freaking out too."
"Not like me."
"There's no reason to be sorry for reacting negatively to a crisis like that. I'm sure you have…reasons," Tony said hesitantly. He knew Parker suffered some form of trauma in his past; he just didn't know exactly what that entailed. He could only guess based on what information Parker shared and what happened today. At this point, he wasn't sure he wanted to know the whole story.
"I thought I was getting better."
"One bad day doesn't mean you aren't."
"One terrible day," Parker corrected.
"One terrible day still doesn't define you, kiddo."
"Did you just call me kiddo?"
Tony stammered, just as surprised at the nickname as Parker. "Umm—I think so? I don't know where that came from, I'm sorry. I'm only like three years older than you…that was weird."
"Just a little weird, old man," he said with a slight chuckle.
"Oh, I see how it is. Was that your way of exacting revenge?" Tony questioned.
"Maybe."
"I may have the heart of an eighty-year-old, but the rest of me is as young and spry as you are."
"You are hugging a teddy bear," Parker pointed out.
"And you're hugging a Wookie. I see no difference."
"Fair enough."
Tony chuckled. When he was much younger and insistent on staying up way past his bedtime, he used to reach a point of resolutely denying tiredness that left him practically loopy, giggling like a maniac at anything with even the slightest comedic value. His mother lovingly called the condition "the Sleepy Stupids." Tony suspected he and Parker suffered from something similar now, although a more apt name for this particular version would be "the Super Stressed-Out Stupids." The events of the day had caused so much anxiety to build up that now, as the last of it finally drained out, they swung far in the other direction.
"Do I really make a good pillow?" Tony asked. He was only half-joking; the other half genuinely wanted to know this information.
Parker shrugged. "Almost as good as Carol."
"And how would you know that?"
"You're not the first person I've glued myself to after a panic attack."
Tony couldn't help but feel a little jealous that he wasn't the only one Parker trusted enough to be a comfort after that. He should've figured someone else had played that role before. Suddenly, he desperately wanted to change the subject.
"How's your friend Ned?" Tony asked, remembering the friend Parker told him he talked to almost every day.
"He says Arizona is way too hot, but he really loves his new family and his new friends at school."
"Well that's good."
"He also misses me a lot. And I really miss him too. But I try not to focus on that because the only reason I have to miss him is because his foster kid dream came true. If I didn't miss him, he still wouldn't have a family."
"That's very mature of you," Tony commended. His own family was less than perfect—just how much less he was quickly beginning to realize—but it certainly beat having no family at all. He suspected friends like Ned and other children Parker had met before coming to Gravesen were the closest thing to a family Parker currently had, but now Ned had moved away to be a part of another family. Watching his friend get adopted by loving parents while he got sent to a hospital ought to sting, yet Parker showed no signs of jealousy or anything of the sort. It was a testament to the kid's goodness.
"Two minutes ago you were calling me kiddo, now I'm mature? Make up your mind," Parker chided.
"You are very mature for ten."
"I'm thirteen."
"I take it back then." Parker threw Chewbacca at him. "I'm keeping this," Tony warned.
"You wouldn't dare."
"Oh yes I would."
"Give it back."
Tony considered holding on to the toy, but one look at Parker's face and he tossed it back. He couldn't find it in himself to keep anything from him, even for such a short time. He decided to change the subject once again. "Have you met Ned's adopted parents?"
"Yeah, of course. They visited a lot before they came to bring him home."
"How are they?"
"They're super nice. And they really listen to Ned. I mean, really listen."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, any kid older than three or four who gets adopted inevitably comes with a backstory they can actually remember and some emotional baggage. It's very different than raising a kid abandoned at a fire station at birth or something. But they respect that Ned doesn't want to tell them all about his birth parents. I feel like some parents would push and push until he talked about it, just to satisfy their curiosity. But Ned's new folks aren't like that at all. They also watched all of Star Wars just so they'd have more in common with him."
"That's really sweet."
"Yeah."
"Is that the kind of people you hope might eventually…adopt you?" Tony asked hesitantly.
"I guess so. I don't want to go into it a lot, but my birth parent situation is very different than Ned's, so I feel like that part would automatically be different. I haven't given potential adopted parents much thought since I've been here, though."
"I guess you've got bigger fish to fry at the moment."
"You could say that."
"Well, whatever happens, or doesn't happen, I just hope you end up happy."
~0~
Happy found them the next morning dead asleep on Tony's bed, still curled up tightly at the top and bottom so they didn't accidentally hit each other. "What's going on here?" he asked. Tony expected anger, but all he could identify was a sense of "I should have seen this coming."
"Slumber party," Parker mumbled sleepily.
"I see that."
"How's Dr. Rhodes?" Tony inquired once he awakened enough to remember his main concerns from the previous day.
"Strange successfully got the bullet out, and at this point it looks like he avoided paraplegia."
"Are you serious?"
"Tony, this is not something I would ever joke about. Rhodes is okay."
"I know, but it just seems too good to be true." In all honesty, Tony had been convinced the nurses underplayed the severity of the situation so as not to alarm them any more than they already were. To hear that Rhodes had escaped permanent disability pleasantly surprised him.
"How are you guys?" Happy asked.
"Really tired," Parker sighed. Neither of them had gotten as much sleep as they should, and Tony figured a panic attack like that would sap a lot of energy.
"Tony, you've got to take your morning meds, and Parker you still have session with Dr. Wilson today. Actually, Dr. Wilson wants to talk to all of you at some point today."
"All of us?" Tony had never had an appointment with the psychiatrist before. Frankly, the notion unnerved him.
"Yes. He wants to check in on you all after yesterday. Do you think you're up for that?"
"Yeah, I guess so."
"Tony, don't be scared," Parker teased. "He's really nice. And he usually lets you pick what you want to talk about."
Parker stood up and stretched with his Chewbacca still clutched in one hand. Jarvis had fallen on the floor overnight, so Tony replaced him with Butterfingers and Dum-E at the foot of the bed. He took his meds just as Parker and Happy were leaving, both dreading and anticipating this session with the Falcon. The intended purpose he knew was to minimize lasting trauma from the incident yesterday, but Tony didn't really think he needed a consult for that. The hospital knew how to handle the situation and ensured their safety successfully. He hadn't witnessed any of the violence firsthand, and he didn't have any previous association like Parker clearly did. Maybe he could take advantage of the time and heed Bruce's advice to discuss his father.
~0~
Dr. Wilson's office was far bigger and looked far more comfortable than Tony expected. He stood outside the door while Quill finished his session. Quill said a quick hello on his way out, and Tony took a deep breath before stepping inside. The Falcon sat in a chair across from a sofa and various different chairs—so the patient could choose which they felt most comfortable in, Tony figured. Between them sat a table full of every kind of stress toy and fidget in existence.
"Good afternoon Tony," Dr. Wilson greeted with a warm smile. Tony already felt scrutinized under that piercing gaze and marveled at the aptness of his nickname.
"Good afternoon," he said back uneasily. He took a few seconds to decide where to sit before settling himself on the right side of the sofa, tucked into the arm.
"How are you today?"
"Pretty good, all things considered. But I didn't sleep much last night."
"Why is that?"
"I just had a lot on my mind. And Parker couldn't sleep either, so he came over."
"Parker came into your room?"
"Yeah. I know we're not supposed to leave after curfew, but I couldn't just send him back. And Happy didn't even get mad about it."
"It's okay. I'm not here to out you or Parker for breaking curfew. Given the circumstances, a need for company is understandable. What did you and Parker do once he came to your room?"
"We just talked," Tony explained.
"About?"
Tony searched him brain to recall their topics of discussion. "A little bit about the stressful day we'd just had. His friend Ned and his adopted parents. Plus it was really late at night, so we joked and teased each other a bit. Nothing revelatory."
"Okay. And how about that stressful day you all had? How do you think you're coping with it?"
"I think I'm okay, to be honest. Peggy and Happy were with us and told us exactly what to do, so I didn't feel as unsafe as I definitely could have if the circumstances had been different. My parents were way more worried than I was."
"Have you spoken to them?"
"Yeah. My mom called me right after they gave the all clear. She and my dad were watching live news feed of outside the hospital. They were understandably concerned."
"That's good that you were able to reassure them so soon afterwards."
"Yeah, I guess." Tony thought about the text. He knew he should mention the text, mention everything about his father that had been bugging him since the incident with Natasha and the conversation with Bruce, but he couldn't bring himself to broach the subject. If he opened that can of worms, it would spill out all over the place and he'd probably never clean himself of it. But if he let it stew any longer it might start to stink.
The Falcon must have noticed his expression morphing into uncertainty because he asked, "Something on your mind?"
Tony bit the bullet and just said it. "Things with my father have been…different since I got hospitalized."
"Different how so?"
"Well he's always been kinda distant—that's just him, hyperfocused on work—but now it's gotten worse."
"Worse how so?"
"He basically avoids me altogether. During the Code Silver, I texted him an apology, you know just in case things went really bad, and I saw that he read it but he didn't even respond."
"What were you apologizing for?"
"There was an…incident…the day before."
"Can you describe this incident?"
Tony recounted the events with as much detail as he thought necessary, from his parents' arrival at the chemo clinic through his shouting match with his father. He tried to pay attention to Dr. Wilson's facial expression during his account, but he must've been trained not to react bodily to even the most shocking stories. Actually, Tony's story probably didn't even make his top ten for shocking tales.
"Do you really believe that your father doesn't want you spending time with Natasha because of her country of origin?"
"That's the thing: I don't. He said he didn't want me associating with people like her, especially in a place like this, and the only way I thought to interpret that was her being Russian. I still can't think of any other meaning of 'people like her' that explains his actions."
"I'm afraid that's not a question I can answer. Have you considered just asking him what he meant?"
"What? No!"
"Why not?"
"He wouldn't deign to explain himself to me," Tony scoffed. Throughout his childhood, whenever he asked his father a question, the answer was almost always something along the lines of 'You should be smart enough to figure it out for yourself.'
"What do you mean by that?"
"He expects me to be able to work it out. Either that, or he doesn't want me to know the truth."
"Why wouldn't he want that?"
"Hell if I know."
"Take a guess," Wilson encouraged.
"If he's that reluctant to reveal it, then it's probably some secret that stains the family reputation or something. That's about all he really cares about."
"Tony, I'm going to give you a suggestion. You're not going to like it, but there's only so much I can do on this end with the information you've given me."
"Shoot," Tony prompted. He knew what advice was coming, but that didn't lessen his dread of hearing it instructed aloud.
"You really need to talk to your father about this."
Side note just because I'm really excited: Natasha, Bucky, and Steve's prequels are complete! Most likely the first one to get published after all the chapters of Gravesen come out will be Natasha's.