We've arrived at the events of the first Avengers movie! This chapter is long and busy, with both Tony's and Peter's POV. I hope you all enjoy!
Tony gaped at the monitor in disbelief, his mind racing in a million different directions as he tried to process what JARVIS just said.
How in the hell… ? That was nearly seventy years ago. It's impossible!
Isn't it?
"S—, say again, JARVIS?" he mumbled, clearing his throat.
"Captain Steve Rogers has been found frozen in the arctic ice, sir," JARVIS said, his mechanical British voice eerily calm in the face of the shock Tony was feeling. "He's being transported to a secure SHIELD facility in New York."
"Son of a bitch," Tony whispered. He scrubbed at his chin with his palm, his upper lip curling into a sneer as a thousand memories of his father waxing poetic over Steve Rogers washed over him.
"Steve should've never been in that situation without backup."
"Steve Rogers was the best thing I ever did. The only really good thing I ever did."
"I failed him."
When other kids' dads were bragging about their sons to their friends, Howard Stark would brag about Steve Rogers instead. Howard had even once risked arrest, back before he was able to clear the accusations that he'd been selling weapons to the Russians following World War II, in order to recover a vial of Steve Rogers' blood that he had hidden away. Probably so he could try cloning him, or some other such damn fool idea.
Tony hated Steve Rogers. Or rather, he supposed he hated the idea of Steve Rogers, given that he'd never personally met the man himself. It's as if he'd been an evil spirit following Tony around his entire life, taunting him that he could never live up to Howard's impossible expectations.
"What—, um… , what are SHIELD's plans with Rogers, JARVIS?" croaked Tony. "What's Fury gonna do with him?"
"That information is currently unknown, sir," replied JARVIS. "I will of course keep you updated as I'm able to find out more."
"Who's Steve Rogers?" came Peter's small voice from behind Tony, causing him to startle so violently he nearly knocked over the monitor.
"Where the hell'd you come from?" Tony barked as he whirled around, wincing as he watched Peter shrink back from him with wide eyes. "No, no, I'm sorry, Pete, I didn't mean that." He held out his hand, smiling sheepishly at the frightened boy as he drew him into a tight hug. "I'm sorry, buddy. You're so quiet on your feet, you just surprised me is all."
"It's okay," Peter said, his shaky voice muffled against Tony's chest. "I was just coming to say goodnight."
Tony glanced at the clock as he ruffled Peter's hair. "Yeah, it is that time, isn't it. Go on and get ready for bed, I'll be there in a few minutes."
"Uh huh."
Tony watched Peter shuffle away, his curly hair sticking up in the back where Tony had mussed it and his polar bear tucked under one arm. Kid's gonna need new pants soon, he thought as he closed down the monitors. Won't stop growing.
"JARVIS, keep me posted on Rogers, will ya?" he said as he exited the lab.
"Of course, sir."
Entering Peter's bedroom, Tony found him sitting in his pajamas at his cluttered desk, bent over a conglomeration of plastic parts and wires with a screwdriver in hand, quietly talking to himself while George watched closely.
"So you see, we need to reconnect this wire here, and then tighten this, and then…" he paused, giving the screwdriver a one-quarter twist. "And then, hopefully that'll work."
"Ah," Tony said as he stepped over to the desk, causing Peter to jump and drop the screwdriver. "What'cha working on?"
"Oh, something I found a few days ago outside school," answered Peter. "I'm trying to fix it."
"Outside the school? What, was it just sitting there holding a sign that said 'take me home'?"
"Not exactly," Peter said, biting his lip. "It was kinda sitting… in the trash."
Tony shot him a confused look. "And why were you digging through the trash at school?"
"I wasn't digging," Peter retorted. "I saw it sticking out of one of the bins, so I grabbed it. It's a video game system. One of the first Nintendos, I think. There were even a couple of games in there too." He pointed to two large cartridges off to the side, the faded labels reading Super Mario Bros and Donkey Kong.
"Um…" Tony mumbled, confused. Peter hadn't ever shown interest in playing video games before, and the mess of parts spread out over the desk looked like they were older than Peter himself. "Okay," he said slowly. "But you realize if you wanted to play video games, all you had to do was ask. As long as it's not too violent, of course."
"Oh, it's not for me," Peter said, picking up the screwdriver. "I thought if I could fix it, I'd bring it over to Auntie May's hospital for the kids' floor. She was always saying they didn't have enough things for the kids to do there during the day."
"Ah," murmured Tony, his heart swelling in pride at Peter's thoughtfulness. Even though he could now afford to buy Aunt May's hospital, he hadn't let his newfound status as the son of Tony Stark go to his head in the least. If anything, he was even more humble than ever.
"Want some help?" Tony asked. He knew he ought to be getting Peter to bed, but he so enjoyed working on projects together with him that he couldn't pass up the opportunity.
Peter looked up at him, his big brown eyes crinkling in the corners as he smiled. "Sure!"
"All right, move over and let your old man take a look," Tony said, pulling Peter's extra chair over and adjusting the desk lamp. As he eyed the mess of wires and plastic, Tony shook his head in amazement. Peter had managed to rewire nearly the entire console so that it would not only be compatible with today's televisions and monitors, but also so that the console itself could be used with wireless remote controls, rather than the tethered remotes it came with. This would make it easier for the kids confined to their hospital beds to be able to play.
"I think we got it, Dad," Peter happily said over an hour later, way past his usual bedtime. "Can we bring it by the hospital this weekend sometime?"
"Yeah, sure," replied Tony. While he was in no hurry to see any of May Parker's former nursing colleagues again, there was no way he could say no to a request like that. "How about we go on Saturday morning? Then we can stop by Delmar's for lunch if you want. Sound good?"
"Yeah!" Peter exclaimed, giving him a toothy grin. "That sounds great!"
Tony grinned right back at him. He couldn't help it; the kid's smile was infectious. "All right, then it's a date."
"Dad?" Peter said a few seconds later, the smile fading from his face.
"Yeah, Pete?"
"I'm sorry I surprised you earlier. I didn't mean to."
"Nah, it's okay," Tony said. "But next time just cough or clear your throat or something, so I know you're coming. Okay?"
"Uh huh," Peter answered, still looking uneasy. "But… it's just that…"
"What?"
"You looked upset. What were you upset about? And who's Steve Rogers?"
Tony sighed heavily, dropping his chin to his chest. There was no point trying to brush the kid off; he could be damn persistent when he wanted to be. "He's someone my dad used to work with, back during the last big war. For a long time everyone thought he was dead. Including my dad."
"But… now I'm guessing he isn't?" Peter asked.
"Nope. Apparently not."
Peter cocked an eyebrow in confusion. "But wouldn't he be really old by now? Like, really old?"
"Yeah, he would," said Tony. "But this guy is… special. He doesn't age like the rest of us."
"Whoa!" exclaimed Peter. "So is he a superhero too?"
"Yeah, I guess," Tony agreed grudgingly. "He saved a lot of people during World War II."
"Really?" Peter asked, his eyes wide. "That's so cool! What's his superhero name?"
Tony's lips twitched as he tried to keep from smiling. Peter's childish enthusiasm for anything related to superheroes or superhero-ing was just too damn cute. "Captain America."
"Hmm," Peter said, tilting his head as he wrinkled his nose. "I like Iron Man better. It sounds cooler. More… badass."
"Language, young man!" exclaimed Tony, grinning despite himself. "Don't let my bad habits rub off on you. You're only supposed to pay attention when I do something good."
"Hey! Ned says that all the time and he doesn't get in trouble!" Peter protested.
"Well, then just don't say it in front of Pepper, or I'll get in trouble. Deal?"
"Deal," Peter said with a nod.
"Good. Now, go brush your teeth."
"Yeah, yeah," Peter grumbled as he slid off his chair and headed for the bathroom.
"You ready for your math test tomorrow?" Tony asked a couple minutes later as Peter climbed into his bed, setting his glasses on the bedside table next to his Lego Iron Man. "Or did you spend all your studying time tonight tinkering around with the Mario brothers."
"No, I'm ready," Peter assured him. "Piece of cake. And they're the Super Mario brothers, Dad. Not just the regular Mario brothers."
"Mmm. I still think Iron Man sounds more badass," Tony said, winking as he brushed Peter's hair off his forehead and leaned down to kiss it. "Now, go to sleep. Young geniuses need their rest."
"Uh huh." Peter burrowed down into his blankets, with George the polar bear tucked securely under his arm as he closed his eyes.
"I love you, Peter," Tony said softly. "Sleep well."
"Love you too, Dad. G'night."
Tony smiled, still somewhat shocked at the ease of which those words fell from his lips. "I love you." So simple, but yet before Peter came along, so utterly terrifying. Before Peter, the only person to ever hear those words from Tony was his mother.
Checking his watch, Tony headed back up to his lab. It was almost time for his nightly video chat with Pepper. He settled into his chair, leaning back and closing his eyes as he scrubbed his palms over his cheeks.
I am one lucky son of a gun, he thought.
Because while Howard Stark may have been obsessed with the past—to the point of often ignoring his present and future—Tony knew exactly what he had here and now.
He had a son whom he loved more than his own life.
And, even more importantly, his son knew it.
Tony couldn't remember the last time he'd seen the kid this excited. After practically a billion calculations, four successful simulations, and a lot of blood, sweat, and tears—and swearing, but only on his part—it was finally time to activate the arc reactor for the Tower. Tony smiled behind his mask as he remembered the way Peter's face had lit up when he asked if he wanted to input the last of the final commands before he flew off.
"How's it looking up there, Pete?" Tony asked, his voice strong and clear through his Iron Man helmet as he fused two thick cables together.
"You know, you kinda sound like Darth Vader right now, Dad," came the excited reply. "It's cool!"
"Hey now, we've discussed this! I'm way cooler than Darth Vader. Now, will you please look at the screen in front of your face and tell me how the numbers are looking?"
"Um… just double-checking," Peter mumbled over the comm. "Everything looks good from here!"
"Everything seems okay, Tony," Pepper added. "Hurry up and finish. We're waiting for you up here."
"Just got two connections left," Tony replied. "Keep the champagne cold for me." Finished with his lasering, Tony closed up the encasement for the cables and sealed it shut.
"It's working!" Peter yelped a few seconds later. "Dad, it's working! The lights just dimmed for a couple seconds and came right back on!"
"Of course it's working," Tony said as he took off from under the water, shuddering a bit. That harbor really was disgusting. "I designed it. You know I don't accept failure."
"Hey, I helped!" Peter protested, and Tony grinned, picturing the indignant look on his boyish face. "Give me some of the credit!"
"I'll give you your credit when you're old enough to need it, young man," retorted Tony, but playfully enough so Peter would know he was joking. "You should just be thankful I let you stay up late to watch since it's a school night."
"It's not that late," Peter said in a small voice.
"I know it's not, buddy," Tony said gently. "I'm just messing with you. You got your bubbly grape juice ready?"
"Yep! Pepper poured it for me already."
"Good. Be back in five."
"We'll be waiting!"
As he flew over the crowd of reporters and television cameras clustered around the base of the Tower and touched down on his specially designed landing pad, Tony grinned as his eyes lighted on Peter through the glass wall, bouncing up and down on his feet next to an amused Pepper.
"Sir," JARVIS cut in just as his robotics went to work relieving him of his armor. "Agent Coulson from SHIELD is on the line."
Of course he is! Tony thought grudgingly. SHIELD probably wants me to build them their own damn arc reactor now.
"Grow a spine, JARVIS," he said instead, the last of his armor disappearing into the platform behind him. "We're busy celebrating tonight."
"Dad!" Peter exclaimed as soon as he stepped inside. "It was so cool! You sounded just like Darth Vader, and then the lights flickered a few times, and then they came right back, and—"
"And then everything was all good in the world," Tony said with a wink. Giving Peter's shoulder a gentle punch, he helped himself to a glass of champagne, clinking the glass against Peter's before walking over to check out the monitor readings. "And everything is all good with the world!" He turned to Pepper, holding open his arms. "Honey, looks like we're in business! Stark Tower has just become a beacon of self-sustaining, clean energy."
"Sir," said JARVIS. "I'm afraid Agent Coulson is insisting. The telephone—"
"Who's Agent Coulson?" asked Peter. "Another superhero?"
"No," answered Tony. "JARVIS, tell him I'll talk to him another time—"
"Sir, I'm afraid my protocols are being overridden," JARVIS said.
"How can they do that?" Peter asked just as the secured, private elevator doors opened and Phil Coulson stepped out, carrying what appeared to be a large black tablet.
"Who're you?" demanded Peter, stepping in front of Tony and causing Coulson to chuckle.
"Another security breach?" Tony hissed, glancing at Pepper. He placed his hand gently on Peter's shoulder, drawing the boy to stand next to him. "You know, if you really needed to talk to me that badly, you could always set up a, what did you call it?, consulting appointment—?"
"We need you to come in," Coulson said, that ever-present smirk on his face.
"That's funny," Tony said sarcastically, still gripping Peter's shoulder. "I clearly remember being told that I wasn't a good fit for your… program."
"What program?" asked Peter, glaring up at Coulson. "And who're you?"
"Phil!" Pepper said, with what Tony thought appeared to be false enthusiasm and she came up behind him. "It's so nice to see you again!"
"Who's Phil?" both Tony and Peter said at the same time. Tony was the first to recover. "How do you know his first name?"
Coulson looked over at Tony, raising an eyebrow. "Perhaps we could speak somewhere privately?" He held up the black tablet. "I need to get you up to speed."
"Absolutely not—" Tony started.
"That's okay, I need to get going anyway," interrupted Pepper. "I need to get to D.C. and work on the zoning for the next three buildings."
"But you weren't heading there until tomorrow!" Tony protested, backing away slightly when Coulson tried to hand him the tablet. "I don't like being handed things."
"Here," Pepper said, pushing her champagne glass into Coulson's hand. Taking the tablet, she grabbed Tony's glass from his hand and replaced it with the tablet. "I don't mind being handed things. And, I might as well head to D.C. tonight if you need to get caught up on the stuff for the Avengers."
"Who're the Avengers?" asked Peter, frustrated. "What's going on here?"
"Which I know nothing about!" Pepper said with a grimace. "Absolutely nothing!"
"Hold on!" yelled Tony, causing Peter to jump. He huffed out a sharp breath, squeezing Peter to his side as he glared at Coulson. "Just, hold on please. What's going on? And why tonight?"
"We've had a breach," Coulson said in a loud whisper, and for the first time, Tony could see that he wasn't exactly his cool, unflappable self. There was real fear in the man's eyes, and his usual smirk seemed almost plastered to his face. "Something of great value has been stolen."
Tony cocked his head, his eyes flicking briefly down to the tablet clutched in his hands. "So… why'd you come to me?"
"You're not the only one we're calling in," Coulson said through pursed lips. He glanced down at Peter. "Can we discuss this in private, please, Mr. Stark?"
"Dad?" Peter asked, his brown eyes huge behind his glasses. "What's going on?"
Peeking inside the tablet, Tony's stomach dropped as he scanned over the screen, immediately recognizing the cube-like structure from his father's old SHIELD notebook, the men/ gods/ aliens/ whatevers behind the attacks down in New Mexico, and Steve Rogers and Bruce Banner.
What the hell…?
"Um…" he mumbled through the lump in his throat, slamming the tablet closed. There was no way he could allow Peter to see that he was at all unnerved by any of this. "Pete, I think we might need to get you set up at Ned's house for a couple days. I need… um… to go out of town."
"What? No!" Peter cried, his eyes filling with tears as his hands wrapped around Tony's arm. "Please don't send me away, I wanna stay with you!"
His son's pained voice pierced Tony's heart like a shiv, and his jaw clenched as he looked down at him. "Peter—"
"No!" Peter yelped, his fingers digging hard into Tony's arm. "Please, don't go!"
"Peter," Tony said, dropping the tablet down onto the desk with a clang. He knelt down in front of the boy, looking slightly up into his eyes. Has he really grown that much in only a year?
"Look," Tony started. "I promise I'm not leaving you, okay? Think of it more like a business trip. You told me Ned's dad goes on a lot of business trips, right?"
Peter inhaled a shaky breath. "Yeah? So?"
"Okay, so this is just like that. Only a bit more last-minute than usual."
"Promise?" Peter asked, biting his quivering lower lip.
"Yeah," Tony said slowly, watching Coulson wince out of the corner of his eye. "Should only be a couple of days. You got your new phone, right?"
"Uh huh," Peter replied, tapping the rectangular-shaped bulge in his front pocket.
"Okay, so I'll call you and let you know what's going on… when I can," Tony said.
"Once a day?" asked Peter. "At least?"
"If he's not too busy," piped up Coulson, tapping his foot. "Right, Mr. Stark?"
"How 'bout this," Tony said. "If I'm not back in two days, I'll call and let you know what's going on."
"Fine," Peter grumbled, his shoulders sagging. "I'll go and pack."
"Don't forget your inhaler," Tony called after Peter as he shuffled out of the room, getting only a half-hearted shrug in response. "Kid forgets the thing half the time. More than half the time, actually."
"Kids have a lot of things on their minds," Coulson said. "At least, that's what people tell me. Who have them."
"Especially genius kids like Peter," said Pepper. She leaned in, kissing Tony on the lips. "I'll be back in a couple of days."
"Yeah, okay," Tony murmured. "Be safe."
"It was nice to see you, Phil," Pepper said as she stepped into the elevator.
Tony waited until the doors closed before turning to Coulson. "So apparently my "narcissistic, doesn't play well with others" label doesn't apply anymore?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Fury wants you to assist Dr. Banner," Coulson said. "He's being… retrieved as we speak."
"Banner? Retrieved?" Tony asked, remembering what Rhodey had told him about that floating prison out in the Atlantic. "From where?"
"Somewhere out in India, last I heard," Coulson said flippantly. "Romanoff was sent to look for him. I'm just here to get you, Mr. Stark."
"Yeah," Tony said, his upper lip curling at the mention of Agent Romanoff. "Look, I gotta get my kid settled, then I'll need the night to look all this over—"
"Just catch up with us tomorrow," Coulson said, heading for the elevator. "We'll be waiting."
"Yeah, I'm sure you will be," muttered Tony under his breath. As soon as the elevator doors closed, Tony hurried down the hall to Peter's room, catching him just as he zipped up his backpack.
"Did you remember your—"
"I got my inhaler," Peter shot over his shoulder. "I got two of 'em."
"Toothbrush?" Tony said pointedly.
"Yeah, I got that too."
"And your science homework?"
"Yes, Dad," Peter muttered. He stuck out his bottom lip. "I don't wanna go."
"It's only for a couple days," Tony said, trying to sound reassuring. "SHIELD just needs a smart person to answer some questions for them."
"Hmph," grumbled Peter.
"Hey! Who else do you know that's smarter than me?" Tony asked, feigning hurt.
Peter turned, the corners of his lips twitching. "No one."
"That's right. So that also means that I'm smart enough to not do anything stupid while I'm gone. Understand?"
"I guess."
"That's a good kid," Tony said, ruffling Peter's hair. "C'mon, it's already late."
"You know," Ned said excitedly from his spot on the floor a few feet away from Peter. Ned's mother had shooed the two boys off to bed almost as soon as Peter arrived, but, as usual, Ned had insisted on a complete play-by-play of what had happened to bring Peter to his house after bedtime on a school night. "You really shouldn't be so upset. I mean, my dad goes on business trips at least twice a month, but they're not superhero business trips. All he does is stay at fancy hotels and go to a bunch of boring meetings."
"My dad's just answering some questions for people," Peter mumbled, not looking up from his phone. "It's nothing exciting." Or so he says.
"Whoa, you got one of the new StarkPhones?" Ned exclaimed. "My dad wants one of those, but he says he's waiting until they come down in price a bit first."
"My dad made it for me," Peter said with a shrug. "I can ask him if—"
"Hey, what's that?" Ned asked, pointing to the blinking green dot on the screen.
"It's my dad," Peter said through clenched teeth. "I figured out how to program JARVIS to monitor the electromagnetic signature from the circle over his heart."
"You're tracking him?" asked Ned, his eyes widening in surprise. "That's so cool! He'd be so proud of you!"
"He doesn't know, Ned!" Peter hissed. "He can't know."
"But… why not?"
"Because Master Peter believes Mr. Stark would be upset if he discovered Master Peter's tracking ability," JARVIS's voice suddenly piped up from the phone's speaker. "And he does not wish for Mr. Stark to be more concerned for him than he is already."
Ned's jaw dropped open, so wide Peter was afraid it had become unhinged completely. "Dude. That is by far the coolest thing I have ever heard! You have your very own AI! Oh my God, I could die right now on this floor and be happy!"
"He's not mine," Peter said, grinning despite himself and shaking his head. "He's my dad's. Well, I guess we share him. But this subroutine is all mine."
"What else can—?"
"JARVIS?"
"What else can JARVIS do? That'd be so cool if he could like do your homework for you and stuff."
"This is it so far," answered Peter. "My dad won't allow him to give me homework answers, but he does help me with questions sometimes." A few minutes later, satisfied that his father had simply returned to the Tower for the night, he clicked off the phone. "But I haven't really had enough time to program anything else."
"Go to sleep, boys!" Ned's mother's voice floated through his closed bedroom door. "You have school tomorrow!"
"Okay, Mom!" Ned called in response. "We should go to sleep," he whispered to Peter, burrowing down into his sleeping bag. "We don't wanna make her mad."
"Yeah, okay," Peter said. He laid down on the pillow and cuddled George to his chest, knowing that sleep would be extra hard to come by on this night. His father may have tried to make light of that guy Coulson's request back at the Tower, but Peter saw something flare up in his dad's eyes when he looked at that tablet that he hadn't seen since he'd been so sick with the flu last fall.
It was fear.
Dad had hidden it well, but Peter had noticed it anyway. And if whatever that something was was bad enough to scare Iron Man, then Peter thought he had every right to be scared too.
Pouring himself yet another cup of coffee, Tony meandered back to his workstation, plunking himself down in his chair so hard that some of the coffee sloshed over the sides of his cup and onto his lap.
"Dammit," he muttered, quickly brushing the scorching droplets onto the floor. He huffed out a sharp breath, leaning in as he studied the schematics of the cube SHIELD called the tesseract.
Recovered by his father during Howard's extensive search for Steve Rogers, the tesseract had been in the custody of SHIELD ever since, while their scientists studied its potential as a source for clean, sustainable energy.
Hmm, Tony thought, tapping his chin. That sounds rather familiar.
Scowling, he touched the screen off to his right, expanding the schematic. He could only imagine how frustrated Howard must have been with trying to study this remarkable cube, given the limitations in the technology of his day.
Moving over to the next monitor, Tony tapped on the picture of Dr. Bruce Banner, rereading the section that discussed the scientist's involvement in the project that led to him getting doused with gamma rays. From what Tony had been able to find out, Dr. Banner had agreed to participate in that program because he'd been romantically involved with General Ross's daughter, who was also a scientist working on the program. Now that Betty Ross was apparently nowhere to be found, and SHIELD was not going to be involving General Ross in this mess—a smart move on their part—they were planning on bringing Banner in instead.
And surprisingly or not, Tony was looking forward to meeting him. He figured anyone who would go into hiding to try and escape the clutches of Thunderbolt Ross had to be at least an ally of his.
Tony pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes closed against the fatigue headache threatening to break forth from his temples. It was after four in the morning, and the vast city was still dark outside the windows of his lab. He'd managed to go over everything Coulson had left with him a couple of times, and figured he should try and catch a couple hours' sleep, but knowing deep down it would be futile. Decent sleep evaded him even during the best of times; it surely wouldn't show up now when the world was under a potential alien threat that he had the chance to help fight off.
Taking a sip of his coffee, Tony swiped his fingers across the monitor, focusing in on the section covering Steve Rogers. His jaw tightened at the sight of the tall, muscular, blond-haired man, everything that Tony wasn't. What the hell did Fury expect Rogers to do, anyway? As far as Tony knew Rogers wasn't a scientist, so therefore wouldn't be particularly useful in locating the tesseract, his previous experiences with the cube during the war notwithstanding.
Perhaps Fury was just doing Rogers a professional courtesy. After all, the super soldier had to be feeling a bit out of sorts having been defrosted only a couple weeks ago.
Losing himself in his glowering, Tony jumped when his phone suddenly rang, surprised to see the sun rising behind the surrounding skyscrapers. "Yeah?" he grunted.
"We've tracked down the Asgardian, Loki," came the voice of Phil Coulson. "Director Fury sent Agent Romanoff and Captain Rogers to retrieve him."
"Yeah?" Tony said gruffly. "So why're you telling me?"
"Well," Coulson said after a short pause. "I just thought you might want to join the party."
"Hmm. Where are they heading?" asked Tony.
"Germany. Stuttgart," answered Coulson.
Tony grinned as he got to his feet. "I've always liked Germany."
"Thought so," said Coulson. "Better leave soon, or you'll miss all the fun."
"Don't tell 'em I'm on my way," Tony said as he clicked off. Chugging the rest of his coffee, Tony switched off the monitors, secured the lab, and headed out the glass door towards his suit-up platform, hoping that Fury had a spare toothbrush and a change of clothes wherever he was hiding out.
"Does that mean he's moving?" Ned asked, pausing in the act of pulling on his socks to point at Peter's phone. "The map on the screen just completely reset a second ago, and now the dot's moving."
Peter, who was just finishing up his morning nebulizer treatment, could only shrug, reaching with one grabby hand for the phone to see for himself. His eyes widened as they landed on the blinking green dot, indicating that his father was on his way somewhere that wasn't anywhere near the Tower. Or even near New York.
"Is he out over the water now?" Ned asked, peering over Peter's shoulder.
"Looks like it," Peter tried to say around his nebulizer mask.
"Well, maybe they needed him to explain something to someone out there on a ship or something," Ned suggested, shoving his homework into his backpack. "Is your dad good at explaining things to people?"
"I guess," Peter grunted, coughing slightly as he set down the empty nebulizer. He inhaled a deep, slow breath, hating the nausea and the shaky, anxious feelings he always got after each of his treatments. Being almost six months out from his nasty bout with the flu his lungs were finally starting to improve, but the doctors still wouldn't let him stop the treatments, or resume his gymnastics classes as of yet.
And it didn't help at all that Flash Thompson thought it hilarious to swipe Peter's inhalers during their PE classes. Dad had bought him at least ten of the things when they were first prescribed, knowing Peter's tendency to misplace things that were important. But Peter hadn't had the heart to tell him he'd already lost all but three of them; four of those to Flash.
"Do your hands always shake like that when you're done?" asked Ned, his brow furrowed in concern.
Peter clenched his trembling hands into fists, embarrassed. "Yeah, for about thirty minutes afterwards. I hate it."
Ned gave him a sympathetic look, which Peter appreciated even though it really did nothing to help. "C'mon, my mom's probably got breakfast ready."
"Yeah, okay," replied Peter. Even though he wasn't hungry in the least, he knew from bad experience that not eating something after his nebulizer treatment only made him more nauseous, sometimes to the point of throwing up, which was the absolute last thing he wanted to be dealing with right now. He managed to choke down a couple of pancakes and some orange juice, which at least settled his stomach down and helped to alleviate some of the shakiness.
Getting through the school day was another matter, however. The lack of sleep the night before had him nodding off in three of his classes, earning him a reprimand from two teachers and a swat on the back of his head from Flash. Every chance he had he pulled out his phone, hoping to see that the blinking dot had reappeared. He would need to work on expanding the phone's tracking ability as soon as he could find the time.
"Where's your dad now?" Ned asked as soon as the final bell rang.
Squinting at the phone screen, Peter breathed out a sigh of relief when he saw the blinking dot. "Looks like he's out over the water again."
"But you don't know where he went in the meantime?"
Peter pursed his lips. "No, the electromagnetic signature isn't that strong. I'm gonna see if I can increase the tracking range next time though."
Ned nodded as he zipped up his backpack. "Well, at least you know where he is again."
"Yeah," Peter whispered. "At least."
"So then what's wrong?" asked Ned. "He said he'd only be gone for a couple of days, right? Why's that so bad?"
Peter blinked back tears, thankful that the classroom had emptied out with the bell, which meant that Flash was already gone. The last thing Peter needed was that horrible boy to see him crying. "Because I don't think he's out there working as Tony Stark. I think he's out there as Iron Man. And if he's out there working as Iron Man, it means that something bad's going on."
Tony stuffed another dried blueberry into his mouth, tapping his foot impatiently as he checked on the progress of his decryption program running in the background, the rather tense conversation he'd just had with Steve Rogers still echoing through his head.
Who the hell does he think he is? Tony thought angrily. Dude just shows up after seventy years and expects to start running things when he doesn't have a fucking clue what's going on?
And what the hell is with that outfit?
Across the spacious laboratory, filled with nearly every technical gadget Tony could want, Bruce Banner was inputting commands into the monitor in front of him, outwardly nonplussed from their conversation only minutes ago that ended when Rogers stormed from the room, peacock feathers blowing in the breeze.
Drawing in a deep breath, Tony leaned against the stool set up by his own workstation, watching as Banner methodically worked through another one of his complex calculations. He could tell by the slight stiffness to Banner's movements that he was still mulling over their earlier conversation, and Tony allowed himself a slight grin, realizing that Peter's perceptiveness seemed to be rubbing off onto Tony more than he'd originally thought.
"You know," he said carefully. Even though he no longer considered Banner a direct threat, he was still cautious about potentially startling the man. "You should come and work for me. I've got a great setup there in Stark Tower; the entire top ten floors are mainly research and development. I'd love to see what you could add to the mix." Sliding off the stool, Tony walked over towards Banner's workstation, holding out the bag of dried blueberries. "Plus, I bet my kid would love to meet you. He's got a thing for superheroes."
"Is that what you think I am," Banner asked, his voice a mix of mirth and disbelief as he selected a blueberry. "I'm not sure what kind of bedtime stories you tell your kid, but—"
"Actually, I've never told him about you," Tony admitted. "In fact, last year when you and Ross had your… disagreement—"
"Oh, is that what you call it?" Banner chortled. "Most of the time disagreements don't end up with buildings falling down and craters in the streets, in case you didn't know."
"In Harlem," Tony continued as if he hadn't heard him. "We got the hell outta dodge because I didn't want Peter to know what was going on. Kid's been through enough, you know? But I gotta say, I was wrong about you."
"Well, that's nice of you to say and all," said Banner with a smirk. "But I'm probably still not fit to be around kids all that much."
"No?" Tony countered. "And what exactly were you doing in over there in India?"
Banner shook his head. "That's different. That was—"
"Oh? How was it different?"
"It was away from here!" Banner snapped, driving his finger into the monitor so hard that it swung away from him. "Away from… all of this."
"Look," Tony said gently. "All I'm asking is for you to think about it. Don't you think it'd be nice to stop having to run?"
Banner didn't answer, but Tony could practically see the wheels spinning inside his head. "I didn't know you had a kid," he finally said.
Tony smiled, like he always did whenever Peter was mentioned. "Yeah," he answered. "Got him last year."
That caused Bruce to whirl around, a confused look on his bespectacled face. "You just got him last year? What, like a new car or something?"
"It's kinda a long story," Tony said, shrugging. "But yeah, I've only had him about a year. Made it official about two weeks before Christmas."
"Mmm-hmm," Bruce said, still looking confused. "How old is he?"
"He's eight," said Tony proudly. "And the absolute dorkiest, nerdiest, cutest, and sweetest thing you've ever seen, which is why he'd be head over heels to meet you."
Bruce gave him a side-eye. "Thanks. I think."
Just then a beeping noise sounded from Tony's monitor. "Ah hah!" he said in a triumphant voice. "Now let's see what JARVIS has found about our new SHIELD friends."
Peter shoved his math notebook off to the side, bringing his arms to the table and laying his head down, trying to ignore the way his glasses were digging into his temple.
"Need some help?" Ned asked, looking up from the chair next to him.
"No, thanks," answered Peter. The work itself wasn't difficult; Peter had always excelled at math and science, and he was nearly done with the list of problems due for tomorrow anyway.
"Look, I'm sure your dad will turn up again soon, Peter. He did the last time. Right?"
"Yeah, I guess," Peter mumbled, removing his glasses. He rubbed at his tired eyes. "I just don't like it when I don't know what's going on."
It'd been shortly before dinner that the blinking green dot had once again disappeared from Peter's phone screen. A quick request to JARVIS as to where his father had gone was met with an, "Mr. Stark is currently beyond the limits of our tracking abilities", and Peter's stomach had been tying itself into knots ever since. He was barely able to eat enough at dinner to avoid hurting Mrs. Leeds' feelings.
"He'll turn up again soon," Ned repeated. "He said he'd only be gone for a couple of days, right?"
"Yeah."
"So… that's tomorrow. And then when he gets back you can ask him what he was up to."
Peter's eyebrows knitted together and he squinted, trying to bring his friend into better focus. "But he won't tell me! There's so much that he doesn't tell me! Half the time when I ask JARVIS a question about my dad's work, he says I'm not allowed to know the answer. That I'm too young."
"My dad doesn't tell me all that much about his work, either," Ned pointed out. "I think it's just a dad thing."
"Well, I don't like it," Peter grumbled. "I don't like not knowing what's going on. And I don't like it when my dad's scared. He doesn't know that I know, but sometimes he stays awake for two or more days at a time, just 'cause he's afraid to go to sleep."
"Why?" asked Ned, bewildered. Besides building with Legos and talking about building with Legos, sleeping was one of Ned's favorite things to do. "And how do you know this?"
"Because sometimes it's hard for me to sleep too," Peter admitted. He let out a heavy sigh, his breath catching at the end, reminding him that he still needed to do his evening neb treatment. "Sometimes when I try to sleep… all I see are the bright lights of the blasts from the drones, at the Expo. They were so bright, almost blinding against the night sky. And the sound…" Peter covered his ears, trying to block out the ear-splitting, earth-shattering noise in his head. "I'll never forget the horrible sound. The cracking of cement and the glass shattering; it was like a million lightning bolts striking right next to me all at the same time. And I heard Auntie May's voice screaming my name, but it sounded like it was so far away, and I was looking for her but I couldn't find her. And then… this giant drone walked right up to me, and it just stood there, almost like it was scanning me. Then it lowered its huge gun, and I thought, 'this is it, I'm gonna die.' But I didn't. Because my dad saved me. He dropped down out of the sky right behind me at the last second and blasted the drone away."
The kitchen was silent for a long time, save for the ticking of the wall clock over the stove. "Wow," Ned finally whispered. "Dude, you've never told me any of this."
"I haven't told anyone this," Peter said, his voice muffled against his arms. "Not even my dad."
"You don't think he'd wanna know?" asked Ned. "My mom always wants to know when I have nightmares. She says it helps to talk about them."
Peter shrugged. "He's got enough to worry about."
"Dude! You're his son! Of course he'd wanna know!"
"Adopted," Peter choked out.
"So? Why does that matter? You think it matters to him?"
"No," answered Peter. "I don't."
"Then… what?" Ned prodded.
"Look!" Peter snapped, barely stifling a cough. His lungs always seemed to act up more when he got upset. "He worries about me enough. With my stupid breathing problems and the fact that I can't keep a backpack or a pair of glasses longer than a month. He doesn't need—"
"But that's just normal kid stuff!" Ned exclaimed. "You know how many calculators and pencils I've lost this year? I think I set a new record. My dad has to buy them in bulk!"
Peter didn't answer, trying to focus instead on the sound of the ticking clock. He could feel Ned's eyes on him, knowing without looking that his friend's mouth was hanging open like it often was. But he couldn't bring himself to say anything else. He'd said too much already.
"Well," Ned finally mumbled, piling his books up on the table. "We should get ready for bed. It's getting late, and we have a history quiz tomorrow."
"Yeah," Peter wheezed, coughing into his elbow. "I gotta do my neb treatment first."
"Sure," Ned said. "Go on. I'll bring you a snack."
Thirty minutes later, after finishing his breathing treatment and eating a few crackers, Peter burrowed down into his sleeping bag on Ned's bedroom floor, trying to get comfortable. His hand were still shaking slightly as he pulled his phone out of his backpack, checking once again for the blinking green dot, fighting back more tears when he saw that it wasn't there.
Please come back, Dad, he thought. Please. I can't lose anyone else.
The helicarrier was a whirlwind of activity as Tony worked to repair his damaged helmet. All around him people were shouting questions and orders, trying to figure out how to repair their broken communication systems. Tony ignored them for the most part, gritting his teeth in anger and determination, trying to ignore the fact that he was still reeling from the seemingly useless death of Agent Coulson.
How dare that goddamn Asgardian bastard try and set up shop on my Tower. How dare he! If that fucker so much as touches any of my stuff…
As soon as the helmet lit up, Tony set down the soldering iron and folded up the protective glasses. Rogers was off collecting Romanoff and Barton, so they'd at least have some backup going in to what could amount to be a pretty major skirmish, but Banner and Thor, arguably their two strongest allies, were still nowhere to be found.
"We're in position, Stark," Rogers' voice said over the comm.
"Yeah, go on and go," Tony replied, heading to the vault to retrieve the rest of his suit. "I'll meet you guys there."
"Copy that," said Rogers.
"JARVIS," Tony grunted as he pulled on his armor. The absence of his usual robotic assistants made the process far too awkward and long for his current patience level. "Where is Peter right now?"
"Master Peter is currently at school, sir. There are approximately thirty minutes remaining in his school day," JARVIS replied.
"Good." Peter's school was located ten blocks from Stark Tower, with Ned's house being around four blocks in the opposite direction. With any luck, he wouldn't even have to know what was going on.
"JARVIS, make sure Peter steers clear of the Tower for the time being," Tony said, tightening the main bolt around his left arm.
"Very good, sir," JARVIS said.
"And go ahead and start prepping the Mark VII," Tony added. "I might be needing it today."
"Sir, that suit is still far from ready—"
"Then work fast, dammit," snapped Tony. "This Mark VI has been beat to hell and is ready to be retired!"
"I'll do my best, sir," said JARVIS.
"That's usually good enough." And with that he pulled his helmet on and marched up to the hangar just as the Quinjet carrying Barton, Rogers, and Romanoff took off. Pursing his lips in determination, Tony stepped to the edge of the hangar and took off after them.
"So what, did your new dad already get tired of you, Parker?" jeered Flash from his desk clear across the classroom right after the final bell rang. "Can't say I'm surprised! I'm sure Tony Stark knows a hopeless case when he sees one!"
"Just ignore him, Peter," Ned warned from behind him, nudging Peter with his elbow. "You know he's just trying to rile you up."
"He should learn to keep his mouth shut," Peter croaked, even as tears stung his painfully dry eyes. Two nights in a row without much sleep and his eyes felt like they were coated with sand.
"That would be too much work," grumbled Ned. "You know how much he hates actually doing anything."
"Better be careful, Parker!" Flash called from the doorway. "I've heard Ned's mom has a nasty temper. Wouldn't want you to get kicked out of yet another family!"
Peter choked, turning his head so Flash couldn't see the tears spilling down his cheeks. "Oh, go to hell, Flash!" he heard Ned say.
"Go to hell, Flash!" Flash mimicked. "How long did that take you to think up?" Stifling a sob, Peter waited until Flash's maniacal laughter had faded away down the hall before he dared to turn around.
"Is he gone?" he asked Ned. The last thing he needed was for Flash to ambush him as soon as he walked out of the school.
"Yeah, pretty sure," Ned answered, reaching into his front pocket for his phone. "Um, my mom says she's gonna be late picking us up. Stuck in bad traffic eight blocks away."
"Can we just start walking then?" Peter asked, wiping his running nose on his sleeve. He'd just as soon not have Ned's mother see that he was crying, because he didn't at all feel like having to explain why.
Ned cocked his head, thinking. "Yeah, why not? I've never actually walked home by myself before, but since you're with me, it should be okay. I've got a key to my house in my backpack."
"Yeah," Peter said. "Besides. If your mom's caught in traffic, it could be a long time before she's able to get here anyway."
"Yeah, okay," said Ned. "Let's go."
Stepping outside the school building, Peter's gaze was immediately drawn to the sky as the eerily familiar sound of the Iron Man armor flew overhead.
"Hey! There's your dad!" Ned exclaimed. "Looks like he's heading home!"
Peter shielded his eyes with his hand against the bright sun as he watched his father approach Stark Tower. "His armor's acting up," he said worriedly. "Looks like one of his foot repulsors isn't working right."
Ned shrugged. "So maybe he's going back home to fix it."
"Yeah," murmured Peter. "Listen. Can we go there instead of your house? Please? I just… really wanna see my dad."
"I don't know, Peter. My mom won't like it if I don't head straight home, and—"
"Please!" Peter cried, hating how pathetic he sounded. But he knew he wouldn't be able to survive another night away from home without at least seeing his dad. He was so close to the breaking point already. "Please? I just wanna see my dad!"
"Okay, okay," Ned said, holding up his hands. "But if we get in trouble with my mom, I'm gonna blame you."
"Fine," Peter said, tightening his backpack straps before stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Then let's go."
"So my dad told me last week that we'll be visiting my grandparents in July this year instead of August," Ned said in the middle of the fourth block, huffing for breath. "So I should be around for your birthday this time. Are you gonna be back here by then?"
"Should be," mumbled Peter, not taking his eyes off his phone screen. The blinking green dot indicated that his father was still inside the Tower. "Dad likes to come back here around the beginning of August. Says he needs time to get used to the city again before school starts up."
"Dude, I can see why! I mean, if I lived in a house on the beach like that, I don't think I'd ever wanna come back here," Ned gushed. "I mean, you could like dive out your window and into the ocean!"
"And probably break your neck on the rocks," Peter pointed out.
Ned shot him a confused look. "Dude, that's why you'd aim for the water, instead of the rocks! Duh!"
The barest hint of a smile tugged at Peter's lips, and he glanced over at his friend. "I'd love to see you try!"
"Well, if your dad invites us out there again, maybe I will!" Ned said, grinning widely. "I kinda hope he does. My dad still talks about how much fun that trip was."
"Hold up," Peter said suddenly, stopping so short that Ned bumped into his arm. "Dad's moving again!"
"What? Where's he going now?"
"Um…" Peter stammered. He hurried over to stand under an awning, dread carving a hole in his chest as he gaped at his phone. "Um, he's going down!"
"Huh? What d'ya mean he's going down?"
"Like, straight down!" Peter squeaked, his lungs contracting more with every word. "Like he's—"
"No, look!" Ned interrupted, pointing to the screen. "It's fine now. Maybe it was just a glitch. Sometimes the cell towers have to reboot."
Peter whipped his backpack off his back, digging around in the front pocket for his inhaler. "I swear, Ned, it looked like he was falling!" he cried, trying to inhale and only managing to choke as he shoved his inhaler between his teeth.
"And I'm telling you that everything looks fine now," Ned replied. "You're getting yourself sick over nothing!"
Peter closed his eyes, leaning against the cement bricks of a convenience store, sputtering as he tried to take a deep breath. "Maybe we should've waited for your mom."
"Too late now," Ned said with a grimace. "We're almost to the Tower."
"Yeah, let's keep going," Peter said, taking Ned's proffered hand to help him stand. "If anything maybe JARVIS can tell us what's going on."
But they'd only managed maybe another half a block before a thunderous roar sounded across the tops of the buildings, and Peter looked up just in time to see a beam of light shoot from the roof of the Tower and literally split open a hole in the sky. A few seconds later, something that looked like a cross between some sort of elephant and a scaly, scary-looking dolphin with legs flew through the hole.
"Holy shit!" cried Ned, his hand shaking as he pointed. "What the hell is that?"
"It's an alien!" shouted Peter.
"What the hell kind of alien is that?" yelled Ned. "I thought aliens were supposed to be small?!"
Thinking back to the aliens he'd inadvertently seen while his dad was working, Peter shook his head. "Not all of 'em." He bit his lip, fighting against the nearly overwhelming urge to panic. "C'mon, let's get to the Tower!"
"Dude!" Ned said in a panicked voice. "I'm not going anywhere near that Tower! That's where they're coming from! Oh, my mom is gonna kill me!"
"Okay, so we go a block over and circle around," Peter said, tugging on his friends hand as another ear-splitting roar sounded from above. "C'mon!"
Running across the street, the two boys stuck as close to the buildings as they could as they maneuvered closer to the Tower, managing to barely avoid a chunk of falling concrete as they came upon an alleyway littered with damaged taxicabs.
"I don't think we're gonna make it to the Tower," Peter sputtered between gasping breaths. "Let's just wait it out here for awhile."
"Peter, my dad hates taxis," Ned said, clutching his sides.
"So does mine," Peter snapped as he climbed through the shattered back windshield, careful to avoid any broken glass. "But Uncle Ben always said that New York taxis were the safest cars on the road, so…"
Once they were in the relative safety of the taxi, Peter clamped his hands over his ears, watching in horror as more and more of the massive aliens floated through the hole in the sky. Every now and then he could pick up the distinct sound of Iron Man's repulsors, and even through his panic, it filled Peter with pride to know that his father was likely the one leading the charge against the invasion.
"How long do you think this is gonna take?" Ned asked.
Peter opened his mouth to reply but was immediately drowned out by yet another ear-splitting roaring sound, different from that of the aliens. Sticking his head out of the taxi's window, Peter could just barely watch over the top of a building as one of the huge alien dolphins flipped completely over on its head and then exploded, showering a two block radius with blasted alien body parts.
"Eew!" Ned screamed, shuddering. "That was completely disgusting!"
"I'll bet you ten bucks that was my dad!" Peter said proudly. "He just blew that thing to pieces!"
"It probably was your dad," agreed Ned, still with the horrified look on his face. "But Peter, it's still gross."
"Yeah, you're right. It was pretty gross."
For a moment all the noise seemed to stop, as if the aliens were so shocked that one of them had been destroyed that they were now trying to regroup.
"Do you think that's it?" Ned asked after a moment. "Should we try to—"
But Ned was cut off by the nearly earth-shattering sound of thunder, and Peter's head snapped up just in time to see a huge bolt of lightning attack the hole in the sky from an adjacent building. "That must be Thor!" Peter shouted, nudging Ned with his elbow. "He's the god of thunder!"
"How do you know that?" Ned shrieked. "Have you met him?"
"No, but my dad's been studying him," Peter said. "He came here a year ago, around the same time as when the Hulk destroyed part of Harlem."
"The who?" asked Ned with wide eyes. "My dad told me the thing in Harlem was a military training exercise that went wrong!"
Peter shook his head. "No, it was the Hulk. He was fighting another alien in Harlem that night. My dad's been studying him too."
Ned looked at Peter in shock. "How do you know all this stuff?"
"I see things in my dad's lab sometimes," Peter admitted sheepishly. "He gets so absorbed in his work, he doesn't always hear me coming."
"Dude, that is dangerous! You could get in so much trouble if he catches you, don't you—"
The rest of his sentence was lost as a group of about twenty of the alien foot soldiers suddenly appeared at the opposite end of the alleyway, their massive weapons trained on a group of NYPD officers who were facing them down on the opposite end. Peter felt his arms and legs go numb as the squawking, scaly aliens started running down the alley, aiming directly for the taxi where he and Ned were hiding.
"Peter," Ned squeaked, his hand grabbing at Peter's backpack, trying to pull him down.
"I know!" Peter cried as he curled into a tight ball on the floor of the taxi. "Just try and stay still, maybe they won't see us!"
The brawl between the police officers and the aliens seemed to go on forever, and Peter's limbs felt frozen in place by the time a huge, round shield embossed with a giant white star sailed through the broken front window of the taxi, embedding itself into the backseat where Peter had been sitting only moments ago.
Realizing that the alleyway had once again fallen silent and the sharp smell of ozone filled the dusty air, Peter managed to uncurl his body just in time to see none other than Captain America himself walk up next to the taxi, likely, Peter realized, looking for his shield.
"C—, Captain, s—, sir?" he said, cautiously poking his head out of the window and waving a shaky hand. "Y—, your sh— shield's in h—, here, sir."
The Captain turned, shock registering on his face as his blue eyes washed over the two boys huddling inside the taxi. "Thanks, kid," he said kindly, reaching a hand inside and yanking the shield free. "Are you boys all right?"
"Uhhh," Ned stammered. "Uh huh, Captain, sir. We—, we're fine."
"Okay, but you two should get indoors as soon as possible," Captain Rogers said, hooking his shield onto his arm. "It's not safe to be in the streets right now."
"Uh huh," stuttered Peter. "Just… um… C—, Captain?"
"Yeah, kid?" the Captain said, turning around.
Peter inhaled a shuddering breath, blowing it out through his teeth. "Don't tell my dad that you saw me out here. Promise me you won't."
Captain Rogers' eyebrows knitted together, and his lips curled into a slight smile as he gave Peter a two-fingered salute. "No problem, kid."
"Stark, do you hear me?" Nick Fury's voice called over the comm, and Tony could swear the old man sounded genuinely worried. "You got a missile headed straight for the city."
Dodging yet another one of the goddamn aliens, it took Tony a few seconds to process Fury's words. "Say again, Fury?"
"The World Security Council has ordered a nuclear strike against the city. The payload will wipe out Midtown."
"What?!" Tony yelled as he repulsed an alien through the wall of a building. "Damn you, Fury, my kid's in Midtown! Not to mention the millions of other people!"
"Why the hell do you think I'm telling you this, Stark?" Fury yelled into his ear. "You gotta do something about it!"
"How long do I got?"
"Three minutes," Fury replied. "Max."
Holy shit! "JARVIS, put everything we've got into the thrusters, it's time to step out in front of the bus!" Tony barked, shooting off from the ground like a rocket.
"I can close the portal!" Natasha Romanoff's raspy voice floated across the comm. "Can anybody copy? I can close it!"
"Do it!" yelled Rogers.
"No!" screamed Tony. "Not yet!"
"Stark, these things are still coming!" Rogers called. "We gotta stop 'em!"
Tony's nostrils flared as his eyes lit upon the missile heading towards them. "We got a nuke heading for the city, and I know the perfect place to put it." Right up their goddamn alien ass. Nobody messes with my kid!
"Stark," Rogers said quietly over the comm. "You understand that it might be a one-way trip?"
"Yeah," Tony replied. He inhaled a shaky breath, his heart thumping erratically. "Yeah, I understand. But I gotta do it." Even if it means I might never tuck Peter into bed again with his goofy polar bear. Even if it means I might never see him smile, or hear him laugh, or help him wash his hair ever again. Even if it means I might never again smell Pepper's perfume, or kiss that spot on her neck that makes her knees weak. Or get the chance to ask her to marry me.
I have to do it because I have to save them.
"Good luck, Stark," Rogers said.
Pulling up underneath the sleek missile, Tony reached up and grabbed on tightly with both hands, skipping off the top of the Tower and grunting with the effort of guiding it up towards the shimmering portal in the sky. "JARVIS," he murmured, blinking back tears. "If I don't make it back, make sure and tell Peter and Pepper that I love them. And that I'm sorry."
"I will, sir," JARVIS said quietly. "Good luck."
Flying through the portal, Tony released the missile, watching with wide eyes as it hit and destroyed the lead alien ship, the resulting explosion taking out the rest of the fleet. His twisted heart felt like it was going to burst out of his chest at the terrifying sight. As a child and young adult, Tony had always had an interest in going to space, believing it to be a vast, wide open area of beautiful nothingness.
But now, after this, he had absolutely no desire to ever see space again.
All he wanted to do was go home.
Peter ducked behind the broken remains of what appeared to have once been a bank as another one of the aliens flew past them on its flying jet ski. "C'mon!" he said, pulling hard on Ned's shirt, trying to get his friend to move. "We're almost to the Tower!"
"Peter!" Ned gasped, pointing towards the sky. "Look!"
"What?" Peter asked as he looked up just in time to watch his father fly overhead, aiming directly for the huge hole in the sky with a huge white rocket attached to his back.
"What's he doing?" Peter cried. "Where's he going?"
"I bet he's trying to blow up the aliens!" Ned exclaimed. "That's so cool! He really is a superhero!"
But Peter barely heard him. All he could see was his dad disappearing from his sight through a giant hole in the sky. All around him he could hear the sounds of the continuing battle, hear the screams of the people and the deafening roars of the aliens. It was just like the Expo all over again. And he was alone and helpless, just like he'd been then.
"No!" Peter screamed, so loud he felt his throat tearing and his lungs searing from the dust strewn across the air. "No, please, don't go! You promised you'd never leave me!"
"Peter!" Ned yelled, grabbing his shoulders, but Peter shook him off, letting out another bloodcurdling scream that sent Ned to his knees as he covered his ears. Peter sucked in a panicked breath, desperately wanting to run and hide from the immense wave of grief threatening to drown him, but his feet felt like they were rooted in place and he was unable to move. Just like he'd been at the Expo.
"You promised!" he gasped, sputtering and choking as he collapsed to the ground, cradling his head in his hands. "You promised!"
"Peter!" Through the ringing in his ears, Ned's voice sounded like it was miles away. "Peter, look!"
No! I don't wanna see anymore, I can't take it! he thought. Instead, he garnered the rest of his remaining strength and raised his head to see his father falling back towards the ground.
"He's coming in too fast!" Peter yelled, scrambling back up to his feet, watching in stunned disbelief as the huge green Hulk skipped up one of the nearby buildings and caught his dad, carrying him safely back to the ground.
"Dude!" breathed Ned. "That Hulk guy just saved your dad's life! That's so badass!"
"I gotta get to the Tower," Peter croaked, his legs shaking so badly he was surprised he could walk at all. "I gotta… I gotta get home."
"Yeah, okay," Ned said, grabbing onto Peter's elbow to steady him. They half-stumbled, half-ran the short distance in a tortured silence, with Peter's heart hammering in his chest so loudly he was surprised Ned couldn't hear it.
"There they are!" exclaimed Ned as they finally crossed the street closest to the Tower. Peter could see Dad lying flat on the ground with his mask several feet away, but he was moving his arms and legs. Captain America was crouched down next to him, smiling, while the tall Thor and the huge Hulk stood nearby.
"Daddy!" Peter choked out as he ran towards the ring of superheroes, pushing past Captain America and dropping to his knees next to his father, his dazed brown eyes widening at the sight of him.
"Kid, where'd you come from?" Dad asked, curling his armored left arm around Peter's waist.
"School," Peter sobbed, wrapping both arms around his dad's neck and laying his head down over the arc reactor in the center of his chest, the soothing sound of its low-pitched hum calming his own vibrating heart. In that moment he decided he'd never heard anything so wonderful in his entire life.
"I'm all right, Pete," Dad said, ruffling Peter's hair as he sniffled. "I'm all right."
Peter wasn't sure how long they laid there on the ground while he cried, but it wasn't until Ned awkwardly cleared his throat that Peter made any attempt to get back up.
"Um, Peter, my mom's only a couple blocks away," Ned said, his phone in his hand and his eyes anxious. "So I'm gonna go find her. You okay here?"
"Uh huh," Peter said as Captain Rogers helped his father sit up. Peter immediately climbed onto his lap. "I'm good now."
"I will see young Starkson's round friend safely to his mother," said Thor, clapping his hand on Ned's shoulder so hard he nearly knocked him over. "But then we must deal with Loki when I return."
"Uhh," Ned mumbled, hiking his backpack up on his shoulder. "Thank you, Mr., I mean, Mr. God, I mean, Mr. Thunder."
"You are most welcome, young one," replied Thor, and Peter couldn't help but chuckle at the look on pure hero-worship on Ned's face.
"Um, and if it's not too much trouble, Mr. Thunder, sir," Peter heard as Thor led Ned away. "I'd love it if you could autograph my math notebook…"
"Pete," Dad said quietly into his ear. "Not that I'm not happy to see you, bud, but what the hell are you doing here?"
"Um… it's kinda a long story," mumbled Peter. He burrowed even further into his father's arms, not an easy task with him still wearing his armor. "And you probably won't like most of it."
"Ah huh. That's what I thought," Dad chastised, but Peter knew he was only half-serious.
"I was so scared," Peter confessed, fresh tears rolling down his cheeks. "So scared that I'd lost you! Those monster aliens, they were so scary!"
"Yeah," answered Dad, and Peter felt his armored fingers curling into his hair. "I was scared too, buddy. I was scared too."
"Um…" Captain Rogers said, clearing his throat. "I hate to break this up, but we still have—"
"We're not finished yet," Thor interrupted as he stepped back into the circle, raising his heavy metal hammer and looking up at the top of the tower. "Loki."
"Oh, yeah," Dad grumbled as he slowly got to his feet. "But then we're all gonna go get something to eat. My treat, of course." He quirked an eyebrow when no one responded. "Isn't anyone else hungry, or is it just me? You can't tell me that the food on that damn helicarrier was the best that SHIELD could've offered."
"I'm hungry," Peter said, wiping the tears from his eyes. He glanced sheepishly up at Captain Rogers, his heart skipping a beat as he saw the recognition in the tall man's eyes, breathing out a quick sigh of relief when the Captain only smiled and winked at him.
"Sure," Captain Rogers said. "Besides. It looks like some introductions need to be made."
Tony kept his hand firmly on Peter's shoulder as they walked along the battered sidewalks to the restaurant a couple blocks from the Tower, with Banner, Thor, Romanoff, Barton, and Rogers following closely behind. Loki, who they'd found about twenty minutes ago practically embedded into the floor of Tony's lab, was now being held in a specially designed holding cell in the subbasement of the Tower, and both the tesseract and Loki's scepter were securely locked in Tony's personal vault. Thor had informed Tony that he would require the tesseract to transport he and Loki back to Asgard, and the scepter would be turned over to the custody of SHIELD, once Fury managed to recover from his ass-kicking from the World Security Council.
"So tell me, Peter, son of Stark," Thor said once they were seated at the restaurant, a sandwich shop whose owner was busy sweeping up debris from the battle in between filling food orders. "What is it like being the only son of the Earth's metal man?"
"It's Iron Man," Tony corrected through a mouthful of shawarma. "Iron Man, not metal man, and—"
"It's good," Peter piped up in his small voice, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as his big brown eyes locked with Tony's. "I mean, to me he's just my dad."
"I didn't know you had a kid, Stark," Rogers said from Tony's right, his pale face still covered in grime from the battle. "Why didn't you say anything?"
"Well, it's not like you really gave me a chance, now, did ya, Rogers?" Tony said, a slight edge to his voice. "Banner and I talked about him, didn't we Banner?"
"Ah, yeah," Banner said sheepishly, shaking his head and pulling on the hem of the t-shirt he was wearing. Once he'd shrunk back down from his Hulk size he realized he didn't have any clothes to change into, so he'd been forced to borrow some from Tony. "Yeah, we talked some."
"I asked Dr. Banner to come and work for me," Tony whispered to Peter, earning a wide smile from the boy. "Ah, you like that idea?"
"He saved your life," Peter answered. "Yeah, I like that idea!"
Tony smiled, squeezing Peter's shoulder. "Well, then you'll have to help me convince him. Deal?"
"Deal," replied Peter.
"So, Stark," piped up Romanoff. "Looks like you're gonna need to decontaminate your fancy-shmancy new building now that Loki threw his full-bore, god of mischief tantrum up there. Not to mention the fact that most of your name is gone from the front."
"Yeah," added Barton, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "Sorry 'bout that. Kinda."
Tony breathed in through his nose, resisting the urge to shoot back with a not-so-nice reply. He still wasn't quite sure what to make of Agent Romanoff, and Barton the archer hadn't yet endeared himself too much either, seeing as how it was mainly his fault that Tony's Mark VI suit got beat to hell. "Eh," Tony said with a shrug. "I actually kinda like just the big A. Makes it more… mysterious, don't you think?"
"So, what're you gonna do now, Mr. Rogers?" asked Peter through a mouthful of French fries. The skinny kind, of course.
"You don't have to call him Mr. Rogers, Pete," Tony cut in. "He doesn't wear sweaters or play with puppets, so—"
"You can call me Steve, Peter," Rogers said, smiling and showing off his perfect white teeth. "And to answer your question, I'm not sure. I mean, New York is home, but this isn't exactly the New York that I remember."
"Where are you from, Mr—, I mean, Steve?" Peter asked.
"Brooklyn," answered Rogers.
"I'm from Queens!" Peter said excitedly. "It's where I lived before my dad got me."
"I had some friends from Queens," Rogers said, winking at Peter. "I'll bet it doesn't look anything like what it used to, though."
"Dad, maybe Steve could come and live with us in the Tower too, if he doesn't have anywhere else to go?" Peter asked, bouncing in his chair as he turned to Tony. "Wouldn't that be a good idea? We have plenty of space!"
"Um," Tony sputtered, choking on an ice cube and trying to ignore the surge of petty jealousy that flashed throughout his exhausted body. It was just like Peter to invite someone to come and live in his house only moments after being introduced. The kid had a heart of gold, and Tony knew better than to try and mess with that. He'd find out soon enough that the world wasn't all trampolines and Legos and mini Iron Man boots.
"Yeah, sure, why not?" Tony said, plastering his media smile on his face as he looked up at Rogers. "So, Rogers, what do ya say? Kid's right, I got a lot more space than that budget hotel room Fury's got you holed up in now. Wanna come live in my neighborhood?"
"Please, Steve?" asked Peter. "Then you can watch my dad work too! And Dr. Banner!"
Um, no. I wouldn't go that far—
"I wouldn't want to be in anyone's way," Rogers said, glancing sheepishly at Peter. "And I know Mr. Stark is very busy—"
"Oh please?" Peter begged. "I can introduce you to my school friends! Some of them are from Brooklyn!"
"C'mon, Rogers," Tony said, even as he clenched his left hand into a shaky fist under the table. Damn arm was bugging him again. "Don't make the kid beg. His voice can get high enough to shatter glass, and I think we've had enough of that today already, don't you think?"
Rogers narrowed his eyes, as if trying to decide if Tony was joking or not. Finally, he nodded. "If you're sure I won't be in the way."
"Nah," Tony scoffed, grinning despite himself when Peter squealed in excitement. "You can have an entire floor to yourself if you want. Plenty of space to set up the home gym of your dreams. Plus, the rent's cheap. Or at least that's what the landlord tells me."
"Okay, then," said Rogers, winking at Peter. "Thank you."
"Yay!" shouted Peter! "Thank you, Mr—, I mean, Steve!"
"You're welcome, kid," Rogers said, laughing, and Tony felt another flash of that damn irrational jealousy ripple through him before he was able to push it down.
Kid's just being his normal, friendly, helpful self, Tony thought, tightening his grip on Peter's shoulder. That's all.
Of course, it was as if Peter could sense his discomfort, because as soon as he'd shoved the last of his French fries into his mouth he climbed onto Tony's lap, laid his curly head down against his chest, and proceeded to fall asleep, his skinny arms wrapped around Tony's torso. Tony had no idea how in the hell lying against his chest piece could be at all comfortable, especially with the kid's glasses askew and pressing into the side of his head, but there was absolutely no way he was going to protest.
Today Tony had been a hero, saving millions of people from a certain and horrifying death. But as he shifted Peter slightly in his arms, hearing him sigh in his sleep as Thor bragged about the banquets held for returning heroes of war on Asgard, none of that seemed to matter anymore. Not even the unpleasant thought of having to share a ninety-plus story tower with Steve Rogers could take away from the serenity of this moment.
Because as long as he could remain the hero of one particular little boy, nothing else would matter.
Whew! I can't wait to see what you guys think! Please don't hesitate to leave me a review! :)