Sorry I'm a day late – gotta love trying to balance writing and posting with suddenly being in a house with a 4-year-old and a 6-month-old (and their very tired parents). For reference, the 6-month-old niece took one look at me and burst into tears, and she has continued to sob uncontrollably every time I pick her up. We have chosen to find this hilarious. (No, of course I'm not taking it personally. She's a baby and she's my niece and I love her. If she keeps crying uncontrollably around me when she's 16, we'll have words.)
The song for tonight is "Trip the Light" written by Garry Schyman and performed by Alicia Lemke.
I was probably supposed to put something else in this note, but I've forgotten it entirely. Oh, well. Onto a fluffy chapter of family feels!
Enjoy!
Chapter 5: A World Kept Small
The day after the Avengers party was a Saturday, and it was the day for May and Peter to go back to Queens. As much as May wanted to get back to the place that had become home, she was also nervous about everything from more bad guys trying to hurt Peter to how much of the food in their fridge had gained sentience and formed a union for its betterment in the last two weeks. Tony assured her that Happy had sent a team to beef up security, including installing JARVIS throughout the building, and that they had handled anything gross in the apartment like food or garbage bags that were overdue to be removed. But just because they said they'd cleaned it out, that didn't mean there wasn't something excitingly moldy hiding in the back.
Really, when she was honest with herself, the thing about garbage or mold was just a way of not facing the truth. What had May feeling nervous was stepping back out of the cocoon of safety that was the Tower and returning to a place where there weren't literal dozens of security agents between the threats and herself and Peter. In the aftermath of a literal attack, living at the Tower had felt so secure, as if Tony had made them bulletproof. And now they were putting their very vulnerable selves back out into the open again and May just...she was scared. She wanted to go, she wanted her home back, but she was scared.
Her worries were partially assuaged when Tony told her he was coming back, too.
"It's going to be a month or two before the Avengers can actually go avenge anything," he said, "and I'm not making Iron Man's debut back in the world any earlier than I have to."
And as much good as that did for May's worries, it did even more for Peter's. Because Peter wasn't really scared of the apartment or being in danger there. Peter was scared to leave the Tower and leave Tony behind with it.
May was pretty sure the kid was entitled to his moderate abandonment issues considering how many people he'd lost in a short span of childhood, and she didn't need to be an expert to know that Peter was scared to walk away from Tony and find that he had been forgotten. Not that Tony would ever forget Peter — May knew that in her bones. But Peter worried, and so Tony returning to Queens was the best thing for him.
May knew she would sleep better with Iron Man watching over them, too.
Even so, it was weird to have to walk up seven flights of stairs again, to have to open doors instead of letting JARVIS do it for her, to use an actual, physical key in the door.
The apartment was clean, if a little sparse. A few of the family artifacts, like pictures of Ben and Richard and Mary, were still at the Tower for now — May would decide later if she was leaving them there for safekeeping or bringing them home. But there was also no evidence of her and Peter actually living here. No homework on the couch, no half-constructed Legos on the coffee table, no hospital lanyard half falling off the counter.
May set her bags down and helped Peter with his; she was mostly carrying their clothes, while he had the assorted odd stuff like his comforter and books. Tony had offered to help them carry things (or pay somebody else to do it), but May felt adamant that she and Peter should do this part themselves. They had to put themselves back into their lives on their own.
But there were a few other changes May noticed as she looked around. The windows had been replaced with something that looked a lot sturdier. The front door, too, looked the same from the hall, but inside it was heavier and had a complicated lock that was partially electronic.
And, of course, there were nodes on the ceiling now that looked like nothing but lumps in the drywall, but May knew better.
"JARVIS?" she asked.
"Welcome home, Missus Parker," JARVIS said at once. "How may I be of assistance?"
May had consented to Tony installing JARVIS in their apartment, but hearing his voice gave her a complicated set of emotions: relief that the AI was able to help them and keep watch, discomfort at giving up that much privacy even if she trusted JARVIS enough (and Tony more) not to abuse the access, and regret that their lives would not ever fully go back to normal.
On the other hand, if Hydra or anybody else ever came looking for Peter again, she would take all the help she could get to keep him safe.
"Is there anything about the apartment that I need to know about?" she asked. "Anything that changed?"
"There is a briefing in your email," JARVIS said, "but to summarize the salient points, your windows and door have been reinforced for safety, and also connected to my systems. You may use your key at your front door if you prefer, but I can also unlock the door for you upon your approach. Additionally, I have been granted control over lights and the thermostat, so you may ask me to regulate them as you wish."
May nodded. She looked down at Peter. "Anything you want to ask him?"
Peter shook his head. He was smiling far more easily than she. "I'm glad you're here, JARVIS. It just...helps."
And May thought about how often Peter was alone in the apartment when she was at work and Tony was busy, or how often she knew he still woke in the night from bad dreams but wouldn't call her because he wanted her to get her own rest uninterrupted.
Maybe JARVIS was an invasion, but he might also be exactly what Peter needed most. And Peter always, always came first.
"I am pleased to be here as well," JARVIS said. "Please continue to call upon me at any time, Mister Parker. And remember that you may ask me to convey messages to Sir or Miss Potts or any others within my network as you wish."
"Okay. Thanks, JARVIS."
"As it is, Sir would like me to remind you both that you are now welcome to visit his proper laboratory beneath the workshop whenever you like. I believe he is eager to show Mister Parker the new options available to him for their time together."
May nodded, but put a hand on Peter's shoulder. "Tomorrow," she said. "Let's have one day at home to settle in first."
"Understood. I will relay your preference to Sir."
May drew in a deep breath and looked at Peter. His expression was neutral — if he was disappointed not to see Tony's secret lab today, he didn't bother to object. And that, more than anything else, steadied her. Peter had been through something extraordinary, and his life would never be normal again now that he counted the Avengers as friends in his phone's contact list. But he was still her kid, and she was still his parent. She could still set boundaries and he would abide by them.
At least until he hit his teenage rebellion phase. That, May knew, would be an adventure and a half.
But, for today, she opened one of the bags and tossed a pile of clean clothes at Peter. He only managed to catch a few shirts and the rest scattered around him.
"Come on, kiddo," May said, smiling when he scrunched up his nose at her. "Time to put things where they go."
"Yeah, because flinging them at me is the best way to keep my clothes off the floor," Peter shot back.
May laughed at his sass. "Go put those in your room and if you do it fast enough, maybe I won't start lobbing balled up socks at your head."
"I'll throw them back," Peter promised.
Which is how their first day at home turned into a no-holds-barred clean clothing game of dodgeball. And when, later that night, JARVIS sent May a series of pictures of Peter with clothing draped all over him like a laundry Christmas tree, and herself in the midst of taking a sock to the face, she decided that JARVIS was welcome after all.
May had a feeling her scrapbooks were about to get a lot more detailed. She couldn't wait.
-==OOO==-
April passed in a blur from Peter's perspective. He went back to school after missing a week and spring break, and all he could tell his friends was that something came up with his Aunt May's extended family and they had to go out of town. Peter was still a pretty terrible liar and he knew it, so he tried to make it sound boring; that way he got fewer questions and he had a good reason to not tell them much in the first place. It must have worked, because by the end of the first day, Nkosi had become less interested in Peter's absence and much more in E-Bit's new D&D character ideas as well as Estrella's suggestions for their tragic backstory.
The normalcy after everything abnormal was a relief that sank straight into Peter's bones.
He caught up with almost everything he had missed at school within that first week, although it meant he did a lot of make-up quizzes at once, which was not a good way to spend any single day at school. He even took one during a lunch period, turning it in with just enough time to cram a sandwich into his mouth before the next class.
Peter decided that he was only going to have wild Avengers adventures on weekends or during school breaks from then on. Mister Stark, upon receiving that grumpy text, told him he'd send out a memo to all bad guys. Obviously, he didn't do that, but he sent something because Peter got a text from Mister Barton backing him up on the scheduling-bad-guy-conflicts thing and another from Doctor Banner warning him that weekends were important for rest and maybe the bad guys should just hold off until summer break entirely.
It was so weird to be getting texts from the Avengers, even if he didn't get many. But superheroes had a lot more time on their hands than Peter had thought, he decided.
Texting aside, Peter found that not much about his life was that different from before the Hydra attack. He still met up with Mister Stark — whom he had to remember to call 'Mister Carbonell' in public now and that was not fun; he almost got it wrong three times on the very first day — on Mondays to run errands, Thursdays for science, and Saturdays for even more science. But, now, they spent Saturdays down in the secret lab beneath the apartment workshop or in the Tower, and Peter was both thrilled that he still got to use the super advanced stuff Mister Stark took for granted and slightly annoyed that this had been here the whole time and he never noticed.
The lab also provided an answer to one of Peter's looming problems.
"Can you help me make a present for Aunt May's birthday?"
"Sure," Mister Stark said. "It's in a couple of weeks, right?"
"May fifth," Peter said, nodding. "I was thinking maybe a pair of earrings to match the locket I gave her for Christmas."
Which was how Peter found out that Mister Stark had hand-crafted the locket out of white-gold and titanium instead of something simpler, but he decided it was worth it. It was definitely prettier and more sturdy that way, and a lot cooler, too.
What Peter didn't expect was for Mister Stark to take a week to teach him how to work with the molten metal rather than just feeding Peter's design to the fabrication units.
"It's a dying skill-set," Mister Stark said as they bent over a mechanized forge to melt the alloy. "I made my first miniature arc reactor in Afghanistan using a mold we carved out of clay and I formed the armor on an honest-to-god anvil with a hammer."
"When am I ever going to need to know how to be a blacksmith?" Peter wanted to know.
"Well, hopefully never." But Mister Stark got one of those I-worry-about-the-worst-case-scenario looks in his eyes. "But if you ever did need to be a blacksmith...maybe you're camping or something, I dunno, I want you to be able to do it."
It turned out that pouring liquid metal into a hand-carved mold was highly stressful, viscerally satisfying, and so fun. Peter immediately decided he wanted to do it again sometime.
"Only under supervision," Mister Stark reminded him.
Peter had designed the earrings to be very simple pearl-shaped studs with little pink quartz stones dangling from them. He didn't carve the stones himself because, as Mister Stark said, neither of them was a qualified gemologist. But Miss Pepper helped him choose some from her favorite jeweler's. Peter knew he couldn't hope to pay her back for them, so instead he elicited a deal.
Because Mister Stark's birthday was at the end of May, and Peter had an idea. And Miss Pepper was perfectly happy to help him out.
Aunt May adored the earrings; she wore them from the minute she opened them and every day afterwards. She also appreciated the joint gift from Mister Stark and Miss Pepper of a full spa day with Miss Pepper for company — everything from skin treatments and massages to something to do with meditation and yoga. Peter was just happy that Aunt May got to relax and enjoy herself for once. And he listened to her recite every single weird thing they had done when she got home with as much patience as he could muster for mud wraps.
But with a present to make for Mister Stark, most of Peter's brainpower was going into the what, the how, and the where. If not for Miss Pepper, he might have been in trouble.
Miss Pepper, however, thought going behind Mister Stark's back to help Peter make a present was the best thing she could help to do. The first thing she did was ask if Doctor Banner could be part of it, too.
"Of course!" Peter had texted back. "I'd love more help!"
So they became a team of three committed to working together to help Peter make the best birthday present possible for Mister Stark.
The most worrying part of the whole situation for Peter had been figuring out how to get access to Mister Stark's lab when he wouldn't be there — and when Miss Pepper could be there. The answer to that problem came from Captain Rogers through Doctor Banner.
"Cap's happy to help out for a good cause," Doctor Banner told Peter. "He's started scheduling team fittings for new uniforms and weaponry for when we need to be here. It's keeping Tony pretty busy, and he's perfectly happy to make those fittings happen on Tuesdays and Wednesdays yet."
So Peter had a place to work, help from Miss Pepper and Doctor Banner, and a guaranteed time to work when Mister Stark wouldn't catch him. It was like a game of cat and mouse, and Mister Stark was kind of the mouse.
With the help of Miss Pepper and Doctor Banner and JARVIS, Peter was granted access to the lab under the workshop at the apartment as long as both Miss Pepper and Doctor Banner were present. JARVIS, once convinced that it was fine for Peter to be there, was extremely helpful not only in the project itself, but in putting the lab back precisely as it had been when Peter was done and hiding his work in progress someplace Mister Stark wouldn't look.
"I still think you could move a whole work-table across the room and Tony wouldn't notice as long as he hadn't slept in a while," Miss Pepper said.
"It seems like a good way to test his observation skills," Doctor Banner said, "but then Peter might get caught."
He didn't get caught. They worked several days a week for the middle of May, and finished just in time with Mister Stark never having caught them — and JARVIS promised that he had not spoiled the surprise either after Miss Pepper and Doctor Banner both asked him to maintain the secret.
Peter wrote thank-you notes to Miss Pepper, Doctor Banner, and Captain Rogers and sent them on real cards (with Aunt May's help) to tell them how much he appreciated their help. Without all of them stepping in, he never would have been able to do this at all, let alone finish on time.
"How do I thank you for your help, JARVIS?" Peter wanted to know that night. He was lying in bed thinking about how annoyed Mister Stark would be when he found out he had been tricked by his friends.
"I assure you, I need no thanks for offering my assistance," JARVIS said. "Though I appreciate the offer. It is rare for others besides Sir to go out of their way to show me human kindness."
"If people were only nice to what they saw as people, that's a quick way to be mean to dogs and cats or even aliens. And it gets worse if you don't see actual humans as people because they're different," Peter said. "I thanked Crawl-E when he won me the whole science exhibition, and Crawl-E doesn't understand even that much human speech."
"I believe," JARVIS said, "that this is one of those traits which Sir admires so much in you, Mister Parker. It is a mark of your good character and innate respect for all life forms, including those which in no way are alive."
Peter felt his face get warm. "Um. Thanks, JARVIS. Now I owe you two — one for helping me with the lab and the other for being so nice to me. Are you sure there's nothing I can do to give you something back?"
"If you would continue to encourage Sir to sleep and eat more frequently, I would appreciate it," JARVIS said. "He does little useful self-care for my sake, but goes to greater lengths for you."
That made Peter smile. "So, if I take care of Mister Stark, that makes you happy?"
"That is one way of putting it."
"You can count on me, JARVIS."
"I shall do so with full confidence, Mister Parker."
Peter gave the ceiling a look. "Are you ever just going to call me Peter?"
"Unless ordered to do so by Sir, no. For the most part, Sir allows me to refer to individuals by whatever they specifically request or find most comfortable. But in your case, he has been very adamant that I am not to alter my way of referring to you unless you begin calling him Tony."
Peter just groaned.
But it did give him an idea.
Mister Stark's birthday happened to fall on the Saturday of Memorial Day weekend, and Peter already knew that he would be spending Sunday at the Tower with the Avengers, but Mister Stark had promised Saturday to what he called his 'Queens family.' Aunt May was baking up a storm — and Peter had already fixed two different attempts at cake and they still came out lumpy and awful — and had her own present ready.
In honor of the pajama Christmas they had spent together, Aunt May had colluded with Miss Pepper to custom order a set of slippers that looked like Hulk's feet. Aunt May combined this with a robe patterned off War Machine's suit and a fluffy throw pillow shaped and colored like Captain America's shield.
Peter thought Mister Stark was going to either love them and never wear anything else, or hate them and ritually burn them out back. Either was an acceptable response to this particular present as far as he was concerned.
On the day itself, Peter joined Mister Stark in the lab under the workshop determined to just have fun. This led to a series of bot races featuring Crawl-E and a pair of previously unnamed bots they had constructed when they needed a break from other things. One of them proved to be absolutely horrible at racing — it was neither fast, nor good at watching where it was going and thus took out a whole rolly chair — and earned itself the name of Wipeout. Crawl-E proved, once again, to be superior at navigating an obstacle course, but the other bot just smashed through most of the obstacles rather than thinking about them. Peter dubbed that one Charger.
Then Mister Stark asked JARVIS to take control of all three bots and the two humans played a full-contact version of tag versus the bots along the entire length of the lab. Peter ran and laughed himself into an asthma attack and it was so worth it.
Dinner was up in the Parker apartment because Aunt May argued that nobody should have to do dishes on their birthday. As Peter and Mister Stark were on their way upstairs, they met a delivery person on the sidewalk with a cake sent by "Miss P" and Peter immediately sent Miss Pepper a thank you text because otherwise they would be stuck with whatever Aunt May had baked. Mister Stark had already requested Italian food from that one tiny restaurant, which he paid for, which meant now they would be safe with all food options.
And Peter and Mister Stark could laugh about it as long as they did so at least two floors from the top because neither trusted Aunt May not to hear them coming somehow and make them eat her horrible cake attempt for insulting her cooking — no matter how warranted their commentary.
Dinner was perfect, and the cake from Miss Pepper was delicious enough that Aunt May and Mister Stark argued about who got to keep the leftovers. It was in jest, of course, but somehow Aunt May got Mister Stark to leave them some. He was pretty sure she made some comment about sharing it with Peter and that got the man to cave. But he also knew he wouldn't get a bite if he didn't eat it first.
Then came presents.
"Okay," Mister Stark said, perching on the couch like a king. "Shower me with affection, Parkers!"
Aunt May laughed and threw him a garbage bag done up in duct tape.
The look on Mister Stark's face was so shocked, Peter asked JARVIS to give him a picture of it to use in his phone.
"What...what is this...are you giving me your trash, May? Seriously?"
"Would I do that to you, Tony?" Aunt May asked with way too much feigned innocence.
"You used to be such a nice person. A kind aunt and a motherly figure." Mister Stark waved a finger at her. "Now you're a hellion with attitude. Did this come from introducing you to Pepper and Romanoff and Hill? Because I am perfectly willing to regret that decision if this is the result."
"Just open your present, Stark," Aunt May told him.
He held it as far from himself as he could, afraid it might actually turn out to be garbage, but once he tore past the plastic and tape and found nothing smelly or otherwise gross, he relaxed.
Then he withdrew the Captain America pillow wrapped in the robe and laughed. He laughed even harder at the Hulk slippers, and immediately kicked off his shoes and put them on.
"Oh my god." He wiggled his feet back and forth. "I am going to wear these in the Tower full time. Bruce is going to die."
"I'm glad you like them," Aunt May said.
"Also." Mister Stark picked up the pillow and waved it like a frisbee. "I'm keeping this in the official Avengers conference room so I have something appropriate to hurl at people when they're being annoying."
"If you ever get Captain America to throw it, you have to send me the picture," Peter said at once. "Especially if he's in uniform."
"Oh my god," Mister Stark said again. "Yeah, we're doing that. I promise to make it happen."
Peter, suddenly shy, swallowed. Then he pulled his gift out from where he'd stuck it behind a stack of movies. Rather than wrapping it, he had built a box for the gift out of Legos.
"I, um. I made you something."
Mister Stark's face softened at Peter's nerves. "I assume you want the box back. Looks like a lot of Star Wars parts."
Peter nodded and handed the box to him. Then he promptly found someplace to sit that was out of range and started balling up the ruins of the trash bag and tape.
"Oh, kiddo."
Peter almost didn't look up even at the warmth in Mister Stark's voice. But he felt eyes on him and finally raised his head.
Mister Stark's face looked like it had on Christmas when he gave him the frame, only moreso. "Did you make these?"
Peter nodded. "Doctor Banner and Miss Pepper helped, and JARVIS did, too."
"I feel that I've been the object of a conspiracy," Mister Stark said, "but at least this one was worth it."
Peter's gift was a pair of cufflinks made from the same white-gold titanium alloy as Aunt May's locket and earrings. They were shaped like Lego pieces, the standard two-by-three shape. But on one of the flat sides were the letters "MTC" and on the other "TS."
"Mario Tony Carbonell and Tony Stark," Mister Stark said, but it was more of a question.
"I just...I didn't ever want you to forget about being both. And...I mean, nobody will ever get the reference. So it's safe. But...it's how we met you first and…" Peter trailed off — there was too much to say for him to get it all out.
"C'mere, figlio." Mister Stark held out an arm. Peter pushed from his seat and settled in beside the man. Mister Stark wrapped him tight in a one-armed hug. "Thank you. This is...the best."
Peter let himself relax in that safe place with Aunt May watching over him pressed against Mister Stark's side so close he could hear his heart-beat. And that gave him courage.
"Can I...can I call you something too, Mister Stark? Not, like, all the time. But sometimes? Like this?"
He could tell he'd caught the man off-guard by the way he tensed slightly.
Aunt May spoke first. "What would you like to call him, Peter? Since I kind of assume you don't mean Tony?"
Peter shook his head. "Um. I was thinking...um. I looked some stuff up and I...some of it would be weird. No offense. But I can't…"
"It's okay if you don't want to call me anything," Mister Stark was quick to say. "It doesn't change anything that matters, Peter."
"No. But...you're…" He looked up at Aunt May helplessly.
She nodded. "Nothing can replace what you lost, honey," she said, reaching out to grip his knee. "It's okay if you can't call anyone else dad or mom, if you need to keep those special words to yourself. I've never minded Aunt May and I never will. How do you see Tony? And what makes you feel complete?"
And that helped Peter put together the word knocking around in his head. "Would...would padrino be okay?" he whispered.
He was pretty sure Mister Stark was going to squeeze him into oblivion, but that was a good sign he'd chosen well.
"I love it," he said. Then Mister Stark smiled at Aunt May, and even from his spot wedged against his shoulder, Peter could see his eyes were wet. "It means godfather."
"But not in the creepy movie way," Peter put in. "You know, the traditional…"
"I understand," Aunt May said, and her eyes were damp too. "Tony's right. It's perfect, Peter. And I'm so glad."
Mister Stark just sat hugging Peter for another moment. Then he took in a deep breath and met Peter's eyes.
"My godmother was Peggy Carter, you know," he said, and his face was twisted in emotions Peter didn't have words for, but he understood. He knew love and grief and remembrance better than most, after all. "She was...she wasn't always there, but I remember the times she was. Mostly for telling Howard he was an idiot and telling me stories to help me become better than both of them."
Peter nodded but stayed quiet, knowing that this much of Mister Stark's history was practically sacred to him.
"When my parents died, she held my hand at the funeral." Mister Stark's breath caught. "She couldn't...she was so busy between SHIELD and her own children, I didn't see her often even after that. But she changed me. She gave me something that I needed. She always listened to me and made me feel…"
Peter felt a lump in his own throat at Mister Stark's raw emotion.
"You know you're stuck with me now," Mister Stark said, interrupting himself. "I mean, you always were, mini me. From the beginning. But now it's...you're never getting rid of me, ever."
Peter shook his head, catching May's watery smile out of the corner of his eye. "I don't want to, padrino," he said softly.
He expected to get crushed in another hug and was surprised when Mister Stark instead turned on the couch so they could face each other. He gripped Peter's shoulders tightly and his eyes were both soft and impossibly stern.
"I promised May this right after your birthday. I'm promising you now. I will be here for you and I will protect you for as long as there is breath in my body. I would fight the universe for you, figlio."
Peter swallowed, but shook his head. "You promised me that after Halloween, remember? And I said only if I was allowed to help you, too?"
Mister Stark nodded. "I remember."
"So...we're family." It was a word both Mister Stark and Aunt May had used to describe them, but Peter hadn't — not until now. He found it hurt and also felt impossibly right. "And that's...that's what families do. We...we take care of each other. Even weird families like us that are an aunt and a padrino and a kid who doesn't share blood with either of them."
"We don't need blood," Aunt May spoke up. "We have something more important. Something nothing can break if we don't let it."
And Peter could see the tiny bit of disbelief in Mister Stark's eyes, the part of him that was thinking he couldn't deserve what was in front of him. Peter understood that, too — he felt pretty much the same way.
So he did the only thing he could think of. He stuck a hand out towards Aunt May, which meant it was hanging in the air just past Mister Stark.
"Family," he said it again. "Aunt May and my padrino."
Aunt May, because she was Aunt May, caught on and put hers on top of Peter's like they were in a huddle on a sports team. "Family," she repeated. "My fratello and Peter."
Mister Stark looked between the two of them and the tears in his eyes didn't go away but the disbelief was replaced with something full of laughter. "Seriously, we're doing this like kids making a pinky promise? You Parkers are weird squared, you know that?"
"Tony," Aunt May was laughing, too, "quit pretending you're not one of us and just do it."
Mister Stark turned, but he still latched an arm back around Peter's shoulders before he put his own hand on top of theirs.
"Family." And the word was low and not broken — maybe a little bit fixed — when he said it. "Sorella mia e mio figlio." He squeezed both their hands. Peter hugged him back.
The moment broke and they let go, and Mister Stark shook his head. "How on earth are you going to top this next year, bud?" he asked. "Don't you know you can't go big unless you can go bigger later on?"
"I've got a year," Peter said cheerfully. "I bet I can figure out something more exciting than cufflinks. And there's always more Avengers pillows on the internet."
He said it knowing perfectly well that he had given a lot more than the handmade cufflinks for this birthday. That, in fact, they were more of an afterthought in spite of all the effort he'd put into making them. But they would be a reminder all the same of the day Peter said the word 'family' for the first time when they all knew exactly what that meant, and the first time he called Mister Stark padrino.
And Mister Stark knew that, too, but he took in Peter's grin and just laughed.
"Well, then I better prepare myself because next year is going to be something else for sure."