Chapter 8: You're jealous
Harley's POV:
"You ready to go, bud?" Tony asked, brushing some imaginary lint off my suit.
I fidgeted with the cuffs of my jacket in an attempt to keep my hands from trembling with nerves.
"Totally ready," I answered, my voice cracking, and Tony simply responded with a pointed look that had me grimacing.
What little bravado I'd felt seemed to drain out of me, and I let out a shaky breath as I walked a few paces away from the door leading to the extravagant party. Tony followed, eyes sympathetic as I began to take in a few calming breaths, and he placed his hands on my shoulders.
"You don't have to be here," he repeated for the fourth time that evening. "Pep and I won't be disappointed or upset at all if you just head back upstairs."
"No," I insisted with a stubborn shake of my head, "I want to do this, I just, uh, I just need to catch my breath here. I'm nervous," I admitted, giving a humorless laugh.
"That's okay, being nervous is totally expected. To be honest, I still get nervous at times during these events," Tony confessed, his eyes open and honest. I couldn't help but look at him in disbelief.
"It's true," he insisted, his hands dropping to his side as he looked towards the dreaded door. He stepped closer to me, his voice dropping to a whisper as he told me, "Don't tell anybody this, but I don't actually always know what I'm talking about. I'm just really good at faking it."
His words elicited a grin and a snort from me, and I elbowed him in the side, certain he was just messing with me.
"God honest truth," he declared, holding a hand up as if he were in court. "Also, sometimes I worry I'll say something stupid that'll piss off Pepper, and we both know that ending up on her shit list is something to be avoided at all costs."
My grin widened at that, and I nodded my head in agreement. Pepper was scary when angry. I'd yet to see her ire directed at me, but the fact that she could cause the great Iron Man to go pale with only a look was enough to tell me that I needed to stay on her good side.
"Harley, look," Tony continued more seriously, "whatever happens in there, don't sweat it. Go in and be yourself."
"I can't do that," I argued, giving him a beseeching look. "I'm your kid now, and I've got to live up to that."
"What? No, you don't have to live up to anything," Tony refuted, looking visibly upset. "I don't give a damn what those people think about you or"—
"But I care," I interrupted, needing him to understand. "I care what they think, and I don't want anybody looking down on you or Pepper because of me. I don't want you guys to be hassled because I come off like some uncultured, idiot kid."
Tony looked at me with concerned eyes, a heavy sigh escaping through his nose as he looked away for a moment. When he looked back at me there was an unreadable emotion in his eyes for mere moments before it turned into understanding.
"Nothing I say is going to change how you feel about this, is it?" he asked softly, and I shook my head negatively.
Nodding more towards himself than me, Tony pulled out a pair of sunglasses from an inside pocket of his jacket and handed them to me. I took them and gave the older man a curious look.
"I was telling you the truth when I said I still get nervous," he spoke, "so I make sure to always have a pair of sunglasses on me. It's it bit childish, but I feel that covering my eyes somehow protects me, or at the very least hides my emotions from the public. Not to mention I've managed to connect them to Friday, meaning I have constant internet access," he added with a wink.
I grinned before remarking, "So, they're like a mask," and he gave a single nod before continuing to speak.
"Being a Stark is hard, believe me, buddy, I understand that," Tony told me empathetically. "People are gonna judge you before they even know you, and I get that you don't want to make a fool of yourself. I need you to know, though, that no matter what happens tonight or any time in the future, neither Pepper nor I will ever think you're not worthy or good enough to be our son."
I felt a lump in my throat at his admission, my mouth becoming slick with saliva as a sudden urge to cry hit me. Sniffing noisily, I immediately placed the sunglasses on, not wanting him to know how emotional his words had made me. It was a fruitless gesture, though, because he always seemed to know what I was thinking or feeling lately.
"When we go in there just be your regular charming self," he instructed. "Hold your head up high and be proud not just because you're a Stark, but because you're Harley, a brilliant, smart-mouthed, witty kid. Ready?"
I felt my heart lift at his words, and I flashed him a large grin as I responded that I was ready. Giving my shoulder one last squeeze, Tony squared his shoulders, plastering an easy grin on his face before he led me into the loud, brightly lit, already crowded room.
All eyes seemed to be drawn to us as we walked in, several people beginning to make their way over. It was like Tony was a magnet, or maybe more like a star, as people seemed to gravitate not just towards him but around him as well. Not to mention, the room somehow seemed brighter in his presence.
I didn't know how he did it, but Tony managed to work his way from person to person, shaking hands and trading a few words easily. He introduced me to a multitude of people, and I swallowed my anxiety, grinning brightly as I shook hands.
At some point, Tony and I parted ways and I was grateful for the sunglasses, as they managed to hide my fluctuating anxiety when I realized this. As people began to talk to me, I copied Tony's smile, holding nothing back as I showed off my charm and knowledge. I could tell it was working by the impressed looks on people's faces and the comments they made.
"I can see why Stark adopted you," a grey-haired man commented.
"Tell me, Harley, is Mr. Stark your biological father? You certainly remind me of him," an elderly woman spoke, her face aglow with curiosity. "Go on, dear, you can be truthful with us," she goaded, eager for some sort of gossip.
I barely resisted rolling my eyes. Instead, I gave a short laugh as I replied cockily, "Sorry to disappoint you madame, but my charm and genius are all mine. Tony just wishes he were my biological dad."
Laughter greeted my words, a woman even having the audacity to pinch my cheek. It was a struggle not to flinch or childishly snap at her. Instead, I excused myself, using my teenage stomach as an excuse.
Grabbing some food, I let out a slow breath, noticing Peter for the first time. He was standing around awkwardly, taking small bites from some crackers as his eyes skirted from side to side. He was dressed in a fancy suit, no doubt a gift from Tony, and he looked decidedly uncomfortable in it, constantly pulling at his collar with the hand not holding the crackers.
"What brings you to this fancy shindig, Parker?" I asked conversationally, surprised when he jumped at my voice.
"Oh, hey," he greeted, taking a step closer, "uh, Mr. Stark invited me. Said he wanted to show off his prized intern." The words should've been filled with pride, but they came out of Peter's mouth dully, and I raised an eyebrow at him.
"Then, why are you hiding out over here?" I pressed curiously. "You should be out there meeting people. If you plan on working for Tony in the future, you've gotta learn how to schmooze," I advised, giving some passing girls a charming grin and a wink that had them blushing before scurrying off. Inwardly, I marveled at that, but I didn't let Peter see any of my uncertainty.
"I'm not good at this," the hero admitted, pinks reddening as he watched the girls hurry away from us.
"Well, you better get used to it, spider boy," I whispered unkindly. "What kind of hero can't talk to people?" I gave a snicker at his red face and strutted off, easily integrating into the crowd once more.
I felt more at ease now, comfortable enough to take off the sunglasses and tuck them into my suit jacket. My confidence grew as the night moved on, and I gave a cheeky grin to Tony and Pepper when they locked eyes with me from afar to see how I was. This was easy, far easier than I thought it'd be. These people were so easy to please, their conversations all surface level mumbo jumbo. They didn't care about my past. They just wanted to know about my present and future, most especially my future.
"Do you feel up to taking on the mantle of CEO of Stark Industries," someone asked, and while internally that caused a flutter of nerves to flood my stomach, outwardly I gave an easy grin and a nod.
Someone else gave me a slap on the back, laughing heartily as they proclaimed that I seemed like a perfect successor for the Stark legacy.
"Yes, he seems perfect, but what happens if Mr. Stark has a biological heir?" a pudgy bureaucrat questioned as if I weren't even present.
"Who's to say this boy isn't biologically his?" another man joked, and I graced everyone with an innocent smile as I shrugged my shoulders. If they wanted to think I was Tony's real kid, I honestly didn't mind. I would much rather be related to him than my real asshole father.
I moved on to a different group, finding myself tiring from the constant smiling and people pleasing. I had to temper my smart mouth a multitude of times as people said thoughtless or idiotic things. I honestly couldn't understand how Tony and Pepper managed to get through these so often, especially Tony. That man had less of a filter than I did.
"Do you think you'll also take up the Iron Man mantle once your dad retires?" a young man queried excitedly, and my eyebrows rose in surprise as I honestly had never considered that. Now that he'd put the idea in my head, though, I knew at once that I wanted to answer with a jubilant yes. Tony, unfortunately, chose that moment to enter the conversation, pulling me in for a side hug as he answered, "Super heroing is not in this kid's future. He doesn't need to wear an iron suit to change the world."
Disappointment hit me hard at those words, and I wanted to argue that I wanted nothing more than to become the next iron man. I could be both a businessman and a hero, just like him!
Conversation continued, all attention now on the billionaire, which allowed me to easily slip away. Suddenly irritated, I found myself walking back towards the buffet table wondering if I could grab an alcoholic drink without anyone noticing. Before I reached my destination, though I noticed Peter agilely making his way through the crowds and towards an exit. I was about to ignore his exit when I caught a look of his expression. It was panic, an expression I'd seen only on one person before: Tony.
I felt only the barest flicker of indecision before quickly going after the other teen. I could be an asshole, but I wasn't heartless. Making my way out of the same exit Peter took, I walked down the hallway, stopping outside a closed door when I heard heavy breathing. I knocked, letting Peter know it was me before entering and closing the door behind me.
"Fri, dim lights please," I requested, eyes locking on Peter's panicked ones. His face was bone white, a few tears trailing down his face as his breaths came out in gasps. Concern hit me hard, and I quickly made my way over, crouching down a short distance from him.
"Peter, hey, everything's fine, you're okay," I spoke softly, reaching out a hesitant hand to place on his shoulder. He flinched before giving a wet, humorless laugh, and I frowned as I sat myself down.
"You know, Tony gets attacks like these sometimes, or he used to at least," I began speaking, deciding that distraction would be best with helping him relax. "I actually don't know if he still gets them. I guess I'll ask him later. Anyways, I think it was kind of my fault the first two times I saw him have an anxiety attack. It was the attack on New York that triggered them," I informed Peter, "specifically the wormhole he went through."
I noticed Peter's eyes look at me in utter surprise, which caused me to roll my eyes internally. He really did put Tony on a pedestal. I dimly hoped Tony wouldn't mind me telling Peter this.
"When I first met Tony, he'd broken into my barn and was removing shrapnel from his arm," I recounted, a fond smile on my face. "I threatened him with a potato gun before I realized who he was, and then he asked for my help. He was in rough shape, falling apart at the mere mention of New York. This was all during the Mandarin thing, do you remember?" I asked curiously, and through his slowing breaths Peter nodded his head at me.
"He had this prototype suit that wasn't all that great, and as he left to go track down the Mandarin, he left me to charge it up for him. When he found out it wasn't charging, though, he started panicking again, and it wasn't until I reminded him that he was a mechanic and that he fixed things that he managed to calm down," I informed him. "See, Tony forgot that he was a hero with or without the suit. I helped him figure that out," I declared with no small amount of arrogance.
A snort greeted my words, and I was relieved to see that Peter seemed to have calmed down. He still looked pale, but there was color returning to his cheeks, and he was no longer gasping for air. His hands still seemed to tremble, and stray tears fell down his face that he repeatedly tried to wipe away. His face was quickly gaining more color now, from embarrassment, no doubt.
"You cool now?" I asked in concern, and he gave a jerky nod as he stood to his feet.
"Thanks," Peter mumbled, looking rather uncomfortable.
"So, what was that?" I felt the need to press. "What set it off?"
"Why do you suddenly care?" the teen bit out, and I raised an eye at the sudden hostility in his face. Peter had never been anything but polite with me, to the point where I'd wondered if he even realized I wasn't his biggest fan. Maybe he wasn't so oblivious.
"I don't," I lied, giving a careless shrug. "Just wanted to make sure you didn't embarrass Tony. You gotta remember, Petey pie, that you are his one and only intern, and your behavior is a reflection of him, just like mine. So, quit being such a pansy and get your shit together."
I regretted the callous words immediately, especially at seeing the hurt expression on Peter's face. Why was I so horrible? Why couldn't I have just admitted that I'd been worried about him?
"What the hell is your problem with me?!" Peter burst out, his red face from anger now rather than embarrassment. "You've been a jerk to me from the moment we met, and you don't even know me! I've tried to be nice and understanding, but…" he trailed off, looking absolutely frustrated.
He was glaring at me right now, so I glared back as my mind raced for something to say. I really had no idea how to respond as my reason for being such a dick was simply jealousy. No way was I going to admit that. Instead, I settled with sneering and rolling my eyes.
"Wow, you're so damn dramatic, Parker," I snarked. "Why don't you go on home, so you don't embarrass yourself any more than you already have. Honestly, I have no idea how you call yourself a hero when you freak out so easily."
Peter's eyes narrowed before widening as if he'd come to some realization. "You're jealous," he stated, and I raised both my eyebrows, forcing out a laugh.
"Jealous? Of what?" I scoffed.
"You're jealous of me," Peter remarked with more certainty. "You're jealous because I'm a superhero and you're not."
I was the one to turn red now, both in embarrassment and anger. "You don't know a damn thing," I ground out through clenched teeth.
"Yeah, I do," Peter refuted as he took a step closer to me. "You've been jealous of me from the moment I got here. It all makes sense now. You're jealous of my relationship with Mr. Stark!" he accused.
"What the hell do I have to be jealous of?" I exclaimed, getting right back in his face. "Tony is my dad while he's just Mr. Stark to you! I work on projects with him while you just sit and tinker with your webs! You're nothing to him! He just keeps you around so he can use you!"
With those words, I walked out of the room and headed back to the party, feeling more upset than satisfied with that exchange. It wasn't like I really hated the guy, but I wasn't going to back down when confronted. I wasn't going to let him think he was better than me. I was Tony's son. He wasn't.
"Hey, you alright?" Tony inquired the second I walked back in, and I quickly nodded my head, smoothing my expression out to hide my anger.
"Just needed a breather," I responded with a reassuring grin.
He seemed to believe me because he relaxed, gracing me with a smile as he squeezed one of my shoulders. He was opening his mouth to say something when his eyes zeroed in on something behind me. I knew immediately that it was Peter when Tony's eyes widened with concern and he rushed away from me.
Goddamn Parker, I thought angrily as I turned to see Tony wrapping an arm around Peter and leading him out. I felt a burning in my eyes, hurt by how easily Tony walked away from me. Peter was always in the way.
Pepper approached me, and he looked worried as she placed a gentle hand on my cheek.
"What's wrong, sweetie?" she asked, and I buried my emotions as I gave her a smile.
"Nothing, just tired," I replied, and she nodded in understanding, recommending I head up to bed.
"You've done so wonderfully today and I'm so proud of you," she told me, and I felt my heart lift. My smile was more genuine this time, although I couldn't help but wish those words were coming from Tony rather than her. I took what I could get, though, and gave her a quick hug before deciding to just head up home. I'd had enough of this show.
As I entered my floor, I asked Friday to let me know when Tony arrived, wanting to spend some time with him. I'd just finished showering when Friday alerted me to Tony's return. I smiled and made my way towards the living room only to freeze when I saw Tony carrying Peter in his arms. I quickly schooled my expression as he came nearer, giving him a raised eyebrow when he asked me to open Peter's door. I watched him lay the teen on the bed, removing his shoes before pulling covers over him and gently tucking him in. He then ran a hand through Peter's hair leaning over and whispering something to him before standing up and walking out. He quietly closed the door before leading me to my room.
"What's wrong with"—I had begun to ask, only to falter when I saw Tony with his arms crossed giving me a disappointed expression.
"What?" I asked instead, heart beginning to pound as I wondered what Parker had said to him.
"What did you say to Peter tonight?" he asked calmly, although I could hear an undercurrent of anger.
"I don't know what he told you, because all I did was help calm him down when he had an anxiety attack," I asserted, letting my own anger show.
"Yeah, he told me that, and I'd like to be appreciative if it wasn't for what you said to him afterwards," Tony responded with a frown. "Did you really tell him you only helped so he wouldn't embarrass me before saying he should quit being a pansy and man up? Did you really tell him that I was using him and that he meant nothing to him?" he asked incredulously.
I didn't respond, wondering how to defend myself. It wasn't as if Parker had said anything insulting to me.
"He also told me how you've been nothing but mean to him, making him feel worthless and like he's not good enough to be a hero or my intern," Tony continued, and my heart sunk. "Tell me that's not true, Harls," he almost begged. "Tell me you're not that kind of kid."
Again, I remained silent, my stomach churning in guilt at his tone. He wasn't angry with me. He was incredulous and disappointed. If I wasn't mistaken, I think I also heard some hurt in his voice, which caused a lump to form in my throat.
Realization crossed my guardian's face, and he shook his head in disbelief. "I don't even know what to say," he expressed softly, his arms dropping to his side. "Disappointment doesn't begin to cover what I'm feeling, bud. I honestly thought you were better than this. You know what it's like to be bullied, so to think you'd do the same to Peter, whose never been anything but kind and welcoming to you disgusts me."
Tears welled up in my eyes, and I struggled with what I could say to defend myself. "I-I-I…," my voice fell silent as I had no idea what to say. How could I explain my actions? "I'm sorry," I finally managed to say, looking down at my feet as I was unable to withstand Tony's disappointed gaze any longer.
Silence was all I received in response to my pathetic apology, and it reined for so long that I thought Tony had probably left me, which caused my tears to finally fall. My shoulders shook, and I bit down hard on my bottom lip to keep sobs from escaping. I was turning to throw myself on my bed when I heard footsteps.
With startled eyes I looked up, shocked to see Tony hadn't left me. I wondered what he was still doing here since he was clearly disgusted, so when he quickly closed the distance between us and reached a hand out towards me, I couldn't keep from flinching back.
Tony's POV:
I honestly never anticipated a situation like this arising. In my mind, Harley and Peter should've been friends if not best buds with how much they had in common. That's why I was completely taken aback when Peter informed me earlier tonight of what had been going on. I'd been so caught off guard that I'd had Friday pull up footage of Peter and Harley's interactions from earlier today. What I'd seen had horrified me.
I couldn't fathom why Harley would treat Peter so poorly, so I'd confronted the kid the second I had him alone. When he had no valid excuse or even an attempt at an explanation, I'd felt my disappointment and anger build. Maybe I'd let too much anger out, though, because when I reached out to comfort the sobbing teen, he'd horribly flinched away from me.
Wide eyed, I stared at the trembling kid, whose shoulders were hunched while his arms were raised protectively over him. He looked…he looked like he was waiting for me to hit him!
What the fuck.
He was in this position for mere seconds, but it seemed more like hours by the time he opened his eyes, lowering his arms as he looked at me warily.
That wariness tore through me, and I felt sick that he for even a second thought I would hurt him. For him to think that, I must've screwed up horribly. I thought I'd done well at keeping control of my temper, but I must've slipped. Maybe he'd seen something on my face, or maybe it'd been my posture.
Green eyes watched me as I took a couple steps back and slowly raised my hands up in the well-known gesture of, 'I mean no harm'.
Harley straightened up immediately, looking stunned before immediately going red, his face a mask of embarrassment.
"Oh god, I'm sorry," he proclaimed tearfully, "I know you would never hurt me. I didn't mean to—I don't know what I was thinking. I-I, uh, I was just"—
"No, I'm sorry, bud," I interjected, wanting to rush forward to comfort him, but remaining firmly planted in place. "I didn't mean to scare you. Yes, I'm upset about what happened, but that doesn't mean"—
"I know that!" Harley interrupted coming up to me and throwing his arms around me. I quickly reciprocated the hug, relieved yet still worried. Relieved that he wasn't afraid of me, but worried about what could've led to him having such a reaction. Someone had hurt him. Someone had hurt my son. I wanted to question him immediately and demand he tell me who had hurt him, but I knew now wasn't the time. I knew he'd only shut down.
Harley pulled away after less than a minute, his hands swiping away at the tear tracks on his face. His face was still beet red, and his eyes were full of apology and worry. I fervently hoped he wasn't worried about me hurting him.
"Let's take a seat," I suggested, gesturing to his bed. He sank down into it, his hands gripping his suit pants tightly as I dragged over a chair.
"What's going on in that head of yours?" I inquired, giving him a look of concern.
"You're mad about how I treated Peter," he whispered dejectedly, only briefly making eye contact before looking down at his knees.
"I was," I admitted quietly, "but right now, I'm more confused than anything. Why have you been so mean to him? Has Peter been acting the same way towards you? Has he said something? I saw footage of your interaction earlier tonight, and you were definitely the antagonizer, but what about other instances?" I pressed, curious to know if this bullying was going both ways. My heart told me it wasn't, but I had to ask.
"Peter hasn't said or done anything to me," the boy in front of me admitted, eyes looking anywhere but at me. "I've just been…I know I haven't been nice to him, but I…," he trailed off again with a shrug, and I frowned as my disappointment began to mount once more. Still, though, I didn't understand why.
"Why, Harley?" I pleaded, desperately wanting to comprehend why this normally kind-hearted boy could treat Peter, who was equally kind-hearted, so poorly.
Harley shrugged once more, so I reached out a hand slowly to gently grasp hold of his chin. I counted it as a win when he didn't flinch, and I lifted his head so that he would be forced to look at me.
"I'm not buying it," I spoke bluntly. "You're not a bully, and you're not cruel. You wouldn't be so mean to Peter if there wasn't a reason. Why?" I repeated more insistently.
A groan escaped the teen, and I released my hold of his chin when I noticed him blushing. I waited a few moments for him to gather his courage to speak.
"I'm jealous," Harley confessed with a grimace.
"Why are you jealous of Peter?" I questioned calmly.
Harley looked at me in disbelief, like he couldn't understand why I'd ask such a question, which only further served to confuse me.
"What's not to be jealous of?" he then asked rhetorically. "He's like the perfect kid. He's super smart, a freaking super-hero, too nice to be real, and you love him like he's your own son," Harley expressed in increasing distress. "You're perfect with him. It's like you know everything he needs, and you guys hang out all the time. I don't know if he's realized it himself, but Peter looks at you like a dad, even if he insists on calling you Mr. Stark. You're perfect for each other, and I-I-I…I'm not."
My mind was racing as I digested his words, nothing having prepared me for his response. I felt completely out of my depth, but I knew I couldn't just put this conversation off for another day. This needed to be addressed right now.
With forced calm, I asked, "You're not what?"
Harley's face was full of bitterness, stray tears trailing down his face as he fidgeted restlessly on the bed.
"You're not what, Harley?" I pressed, garnering his attention when I placed a steadying hand on his bouncing knee.
"I'm not…I'm no good for you," I barely heard him whisper morosely, and I swear those words broke my heart. His pained eyes focused squarely on mine as he continued speaking.
"I know I'm not an easy kid, and I've only gotten worse since my mom and Anna were killed. You might try and hide it, but I can tell you and Pepper are constantly worried about me. I stress you guys out, and I'm not easy to get along with. I know I've been unfair with you, and I've done nothing to make your life easier. I showed up out of the blue, expecting you to fix my problems when you've never had an obligation to do so. I know your life was easier without me. I'm just-I'm just useless," he stated, as if admitting some sort of horrible secret to me.
"Peter just seems like the perfect son, and if you had to choose between us, I know you'd choose him," he then remarked, and his utter certainty in those words tore through my already broken heart, shattering it into pieces.
How long had he been thinking like this? How had I not seen this? Had I given him this impression?
My mind continued to race, this time with how I could fix this. I had to choose my words carefully. I had to convince Harley that he mattered to me just as much as Peter, and there was no comparison between the two because there was nothing to compare. They were each their own person, and I would never choose one over the other.
"Harley Stark," I addressed firmly, and the boy's dull green eyes snapped back to mine. "Listen closely and listen well," I ordered, pausing momentarily before saying, "I love you."
Clearly, that hadn't been what the kid had been expecting, because his mouth opened, eyes widening as tears once again began to spill down his face.
"I understand why you've been jealous, and I'm deeply sorry if I've ever done something to make you think I cared more about Peter than you," I continued, getting up and sitting myself down next to my distraught boy. "You are not nor will you ever be a bother or a burden to me. Yes, you've got issues, but who doesn't? Hell, how many of my anxiety attacks have you witnessed?" I asked rhetorically, wrapping an arm around Harley to pull him close.
"You are my son, bud, and I've never regretted adopting you," I informed him seriously. "I've never regretted meeting you," I added, using my thumb to wipe away some of his tears. "You are an amazing young man who I'm grateful to have in my life. Life is different with you here, and maybe a little harder, but I wouldn't change anything if given the choice. I love having you here. I love having you as my son. Things haven't been perfect, and we've definitely clashed, but isn't that how any father/son relationship works? Admittedly, I'm no expert, and I guess you aren't either, so I suppose we're both figuring this out as we go along," I mused aloud.
Harley sniffed loudly, wiping at his face with the sleeve of his jacket, and I rubbed a hand up and down his arm comfortingly. His tears seemed to have stopped, but I wasn't done speaking.
"You and Peter are two different boys. I don't compare you to him or him to you. There is no comparison," I asserted firmly. "You're each your own person, and I care about both of you equally. I don't care more for him because he hasn't gotten into as much trouble or because he's a superhero," I remarked. "You think I'm perfect with him, but I can promise you that I'm not. Pete and I have spent a lot of time together recently, and I've definitely learned how to deal with him, but our relationship is far from perfect. Peter is far from perfect," I had to add. "I never discuss it with you, but Peter gets himself into just as much mischief and gives me as bad a headache as you," I joked mildly.
Harley snorted at this, his head coming to lean down against my chest. I allowed my hand to massage his scalp, and he let out a noise of content, reminding me very much of a cat. He was still hiccoughing and taking shaky breaths, but he was calming down.
"He's not taking me away from you," I declared, having a strong feeling that this was the crux of the matter. "No one will take me away from you. I've told you before, and I'll tell you as many times as needed, but I'm here for you, Gizmo. I will always be here for you. I won't leave you alone."
Harleys face burrowed into my chest, his hands wrapping tightly around me as his shoulders began to shake. I could feel his tears soaking through my dress shirt, so I knew he was crying again.
"Please don't feel jealous of Peter," I now begged. "He, like you, will always be a part of my life. I haven't adopted him, but you were right when you said I look at him like a son. You're both my kids, and I want nothing more than for you two to get along. You two have a lot in common, and I'm sure you'd be great friends if you'd give him a chance," I suggested.
There were several moments of silence before Harley shakily muttered, "He probably hates me."
I chuckled before saying, "He doesn't. Believe it or not, he's concerned about you, which is why he talked to me tonight. He wasn't looking to get you in trouble."
Disbelieving eyes met mine, and I quirked my lips into a smile. "It's true," I confirmed, which caused the disbelief to turn to guilt. He once again went back to hiding his face against my chest.
"I think you owe him an apology, bud," I suggested lightly, smiling when I hard a quiet, "I will."
I placed a kiss to the top of my son's head, relishing in being able to hold him in my arms.
"Can you look at me bud?" I requested, and two eyes reluctantly turned towards me.
"You've got a big heart, and I'd hate to see you poison it with hate and jealousy. You're not a bully, and I won't stand by and allow you to become one. We clear?" I inquired sternly, ignoring the wince the teen gave at my tone.
"Very clear," he quickly replied, giving me an earnest look, and I softened my expression, pulling him tight against me.
God, I really loved this kid. If I'd known how much joy a kid would bring me, I would've had one ages ago, I thought idly. I didn't care about the stress, tears, or sleepless nights. I didn't care about the disobedience, anger, or disrespect. All that heartache and headache was worth it, because the positives far outweighed those negatives.
The unconditional love alone was enough to overcome the negatives. Then, there was their laughter, smiles, and hugs. Pride in their achievements. Joy in spending time with them. Warmth in their kind words and actions. Contentment when they were near. Simply looking at Harley and Peter brought me happiness.
I stayed with Harley until he fell asleep, and when I walked out of his room, I checked in on Peter, pleased to see he was sleeping well. Smiling to myself, I went to sleep myself, feeling that in this moment all was right in the world.