Tony VII: Malibu

They'd been planning this trip since the beginning of the year, and in the wake of Clint's passing it felt even more necessary to get away from it all. Tony, his parents, and the Weavers were spending a week at his father's house in Malibu as a combination graduation celebration for Tony and first family vacation for Parker and his parents. There had been a bit of a disagreement on travel arrangements, Howard offering use of his private jet while the Weavers insisted they'd rather fly coach. Howard won, of course.

"I've never been on a private jet before," Parker said, sitting in Tony's living room while they waited for Howard's staff to put all their luggage in a car.

Tony shrugged. "I would say it's not that special, but my opinion on that is kinda biased because I've never flown any other way."

"I've never flown, period."

"Well then this'll be fun regardless of what kind of plane."

"I can't wait. I've never been to California either."

"Where have you been?" Tony asked.

Parker had to think about it for a minute. "New Jersey?"

"Wow. You, my friend, have got to get out more."

"Where have you been?"

"I used to get dragged along on business trips all over the country so I could 'learn.' But Dad never brought me abroad when he visited other countries to make deals and stuff. He was afraid I'd get kidnapped."

"Kidnapped?"

Tony suddenly realized he may have scared the kid, so he quickly corrected, "I think that was just an excuse for him not to have to look after me in a foreign country."

"Oh, ok."

"Boys, it's time to go," Tony's mom called.

"This is going to be the best vacation ever."

~0~

Parker explored the entire jet front to back and opened every single cabinet door, drawer, and seat cushion while Tony watched amusedly. He reminded him of a dog sniffing a car for drugs. "This is the coolest thing ever," he remarked.

Tony was just glad he was already having fun. He'd grown so used to this lifestyle that he didn't realize just how grand it would seem to the average person. Parker was so eager, he barely managed to stay in his seat from takeoff to cruising altitude. Tony spent that time reassuring himself that he did pack enough batteries. He'd double checked, added more, and double checked again. Still, when they were allowed to remove their seatbelts, he checked once again, just to be sure.

Parker bounced his way through the airport in California, then bounced his way through the entirety of the Malibu house. Tony hadn't been here since before he got sick, but beforehand he used to spend at least a week or two every summer here. Dad didn't often have time to come with them, but Mom always made sure they got out of the city for at least a little bit.

"This place is so cool," Parker said. He stood in the middle of the room and stared up through the round skylight for so long Tony almost reminded him to blink. While he raced around the place, Tony's parents gave the Weavers a more formal tour. Parker took in the view from every massive window, jumping from place to place so quickly Tony almost couldn't keep up. He stopped him from entering the master bedroom—which had always been off limits—but showed him to the room they'd be sharing.

"This is bigger than my entire apartment," he remarked.

"I think most places out here are bigger than the average New York City apartment."

"How does this even exist? It's like…build into the side of a cliff."

"My dad wanted the house built here because someone said it couldn't be done. He engineered it himself."

"Wow. That's so petty."

"Yeah. This was years ago, though. He's mostly grown out of that."

Parker dumped his things on one of the beds after asking which was his. "So when are we going to the beach?"

Tony chuckled. "Ask your parents. I'm not the one in charge here."

Parker scrambled out of the room, presumably to do just that. Tony sighed, exhausted and excited all at once. He imagined this was what bringing home a new puppy was like. As much as he'd gotten to know Parker at Gravesen, in the last few months Tony had seen a side of him he'd never really seen at the hospital. This unbridled joy for life must have been sucked out of him by the circumstances leading to his hospitalization. Clearly, it had returned in spades. Just looking at him nowadays made Tony smile.

"They said if we get changed we can go now and stay until sunset," Parker announced, poking his head into the doorway. "Where's the bathroom?"

"Right across the hall," Tony said. Parker dug through his suitcase, pulled out his trunks and a T-shirt, and zipped back out the door. While he was gone, Tony changed his own clothes. While he couldn't swim, of course, he had every intention of at least wading knee deep. While they waited for the four adults to get ready, Tony fully expected Parker to literally wear a hole in the floor.

"The ocean isn't going anywhere," Tony assured him.

"I know, it's just been so long since I've been anywhere this new and exciting."

"Well, I'm glad you're excited. But you're wearing me out just looking at you."

Parker abruptly stopped his pacing. "Sorry."

"You're fine."

"Alright, who's ready to get their beach on?" Mr. Weaver asked.

"Daddell, don't be so cheesy," Parker sighed dramatically.

"I like his enthusiasm," Tony said.

"This guy gets it." Mr. Weaver patted him on the back. "Let's go."

"Wait, where are my parents?" Tony asked.

"They're going to hang out in here this afternoon, but they'll join us at dinnertime," the other Mr. Weaver explained. Tony knew what that meant. Whenever his parents were at this house together, they liked to start off the trip with…things he'd rather not be in the house for.

"Okay."

It was a short walk from the house to the beach, made even shorter by the enthusiasm of the three Weavers. Though he wasn't related to them by blood, Parker mirrored their energy more than any father-son duo Tony had ever seen, except for maybe Mr. Stane and Obi. Those two shared the same stick up their ass. Tony carried with him his VAD backpack and a book. The Weavers brought down enough chairs for all four of them. Parker didn't hesitate to dash straight into the ocean and didn't stop until he was waist-deep.

"How's the temperature?" Mr. Weaver called.

"Cold! But still great!" Parker yelled back. Tony wished he could join him all the way out there. Instead, he settled for watching and enjoying the waves vicariously. One of Parker's dads headed out to join him, while the other, the one he called Dad, stayed behind with Tony.

"Parker told us he'd never gone further than knee deep in the ocean," he sighed. "The water in the northeast was always too cold, but those are the only beaches he's ever been to. Thank you for letting us come along."

"Oh, you're more than welcome," Tony replied. This trip would hardly be any fun with just him and his parents. Tony had practically insisted they invite the Weavers when Mom first suggested coming out here after graduation.

"He's been really down after Clint," Mr. Weaver continued.

"But he's okay?" Tony remembered what happened after Pietra died, and Parker hadn't even known her as well as he knew Clint. The last thing he needed after he'd finally found stability was for his friend's death to cause a relapse.

"Yes. I'm a child psychologist myself, so I work with kids who have endured trauma. I know what the warning signs are, and he seems to be fine other than necessary grieving. I think having you there as a support is a big part of that."

"Me? I think you and Mr. Weaver deserve most of the credit for that."

"Sure, some of it. But having a parent and having a friend are very different."

Tony rather thought Parker had supported him more so than the other way around, at least at the funeral, but hearing those words directly from Parker's dad's mouth filled him with all the warm and fuzzies. He gazed back out at the kid, currently splash-fighting with his other dad and bobbing up and down in the waves, and the feeling only intensified. Of all the things he'd gained after his time at Gravesen, the friendships were certainly the thing he treasured the most.

~0~

"I can't visit California and not have avocado toast," Parker said insistently, taking another bite of the green confection.

"Fair enough," Tony said with a shrug, and set about making a smoothie. "So, what do you want to do today?"

"Well, you're an engineer, right?"

"Not yet. I have to get the degree first."

"Whatever. You're going to school for engineering, which means you probably already have a certain proclivity for it."

"And you have a proclivity for using words I don't know."

"Well, you just used it right. So I guess you do know it."

"Anyway, were you going somewhere with this?"

"Yes. I want to make a sandcastle. An amazing one."

"And my being an engineer has to do with that…how?"

"Engineering and sculpting have somewhat overlapping skill sets, don't they? You need the sand to be the right viscosity and everything."

"I'm not exactly going to do math while I'm on vacation."

"Whatever. Will you build a sand castle with me?"

"Sure."

"Yes."

"Where are your parents? And mine?"

"Still in bed I think."

"Nope. Right here, Parker," Mr. Weaver said. He'd emerged from their room and stood behind Parker to ruffle his hair.

"Good morning Dad," he said.

"Good morning. Tony, how many servings does that concoction you've got going there make?"

"Two or three. You want some?"

"Yes please. Thank you."

When Tony finished blending, he poured two glasses and handed one to Mr. Weaver.

"Tony and I are going to build an epic sandcastle today," Parker informed him.

"Oh yeah? Can I help? I took a sculpting class in college."

"You did?"

"Yep. We had to get our art credit somehow, and I thought it looked fun."

"Then you should definitely help. This is going to be great."

At ten in the morning, all six of them headed back down to the beach. Tony's parents set up shop under an umbrella, his mother with a romance novel and his father with a tablet for work. Both of Parker's dads wanted to help with construction.

"Are we going for classic medieval stronghold, or something more innovative?" Mr. Weaver asked.

"I'm thinking classic medieval. Tony?"

"Sounds good to me."

It had taken ages to dig out his old buckets and shovels from the shed. The last time Tony made a sandcastle, he couldn't have been older than ten. Parker orchestrated the entire team, like a construction foreman or something. Tony was put in charge of touching up connections between new towers and walls, while his dads got to collect sand from the right band between the water and the dry sand. After thirty minutes, they had a formidable stronghold. After an hour, they had a castle worthy of the greatest of Scottish kings. A grand central tower almost half as tall as Tony rose in the center, the top decorated with pristine battlements. Parker had used his finger to draw elegant stonework around its circumference. Four shorter towers made up the corners, each connected by thick walls. Within the castle courtyard, they built replicas of little shacks and some vaguely humanoid shaped mounds. They finished just in time for the tide to start eating away at it. Even then, they frantically dug a moat to reroute the water and buy them some more time to enjoy the fruits of their labor before the water razed it to the ground.

"Impressive," Tony's father remarked when he came over to look it over. Tony looked away to hide his proud blush.

"Thanks Mr. Stark," Parker remarked. Tony watched his father regard Parker with as much fondness as when he looked at his own son. He'd never dreamed that he'd be living through a dream vacation like this, complete with an almost-brother and his father's genuine attention. It didn't even matter that he couldn't experience the ocean fully, or that he still had to keep up with battery switches.

That evening after dinner, they taught Tony's parents how to play Catan. The Weavers played as a team, and so did the Starks, with Tony and Parker completing the group of four. Tony insisted on playing red, and Parker let him on the condition that he got blue.

"So I have to finish trading before I build anything?" Howard asked for the third time.

"Yes Dad," Tony sighed.

"Unrealistic," he harrumphed, but he followed the rule.

"Do you guys play this often?" Tony asked the three Weavers.

"Every Thursday night," Mr. Weaver replied.

"Daddell always gets largest army," Parker said.

"Because he spends all his resources on development cards instead of roads and settlements," the other Mr. Weaver retorted. "Which is a terrible strategy, by the way." He elbowed his husband in the side. Tony couldn't believe how different they were as a couple and as parents than his own. His own folks never poked fun at each other or joked like that, certainly not around Tony.

"Hey! It works."

"No it doesn't," Parker said. "When was the last time you won?"

"Two weeks ago."

"That was only because we played our first settlements blind and you got all the good numbers."

"Wait, what does playing blind mean?" Tony asked. He'd played his fair share of Catan since Gravesen and he'd never heard such a term.

"You set up the board with the number tiles upside down and place your settlements without knowing what you're getting," Parker explained.

"Wow. That sounds high-stakes."

"It's so much fun. Except when you get sucky numbers."

"One time Parker ended up on a hex with two sixes and an eight," Mr. Weaver said.

"Now that was a fun game," Parker said with a smirk.

They ultimately stayed up until one in the morning, civilized games of Catan devolving into the adults sharing stories from their youth and causing the entire group to burst out laughing. Tony learned more about Parker's parents than he ever knew about his own. He went to bed that night positively giddy, knowing that this would go down in history as one of the best nights of his life.

~0~

The rest of the week elapsed in a blur of relaxing on the beach and more dual family game nights. Tony learned that Mr. Weaver was unbeatable at poker, while the other Mr. Weaver had possibly the worst poker face he'd ever seen. They didn't gamble for real, of course, but used the decorative seashells from a vase on the table. Tony was disappointed when they had to fly back home, but Parker's excitement at riding on the private jet again gave him something else to focus on.

"I have to go to the bathroom so badly," Parker said, practically skipping out of the plane. Tony and the four adults followed behind him, rolling their eyes at his antics. For whatever reason he'd refused to go on the plane. They entered the airport and headed towards the nearest bathroom. "Will you watch my suitcase?" he asked, passing the handle to Tony.

"Sure thing." He sat down on the nearest bench with his and Parker's parents, placing the luggage next to him, while Parker sprinted into the bathroom. Tony sighed cathartically. He wished the trip hadn't elapsed so quickly, but he looked forward to sharing more memories like it in the future.